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miaoua3 · 3 days ago

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Take A Seat

Pairing: bf! dk x f!reader

Genre: smut (MDNI), oral (f! receiving), light angst (previous fight getting resolved through him eating you out), pwp, shirtless dokyeom (hot asf pls never put on a shirt ever again), dokyeom nose appreciation, slightly sub! dk

Notes: a kind of a belated birthday post for dk but hey better late than never right, anyway dont cream your panties too much and enjoy

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thinking about dk and his nose….

you sit on your bed, seething at the situation you have been put into.

to be honest, you can acknowledge that you might be a bit in the wrong, considering that you can’t even remember what your fight with your boyfriend is even about, or how it began for that matter.

it must be one of those days where you are extremely sensitive for no reason at all, and where even the lightest of jokes can trigger you.

with your arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, you sit there and let your anger consume your whole being.

how dare he say that you were being little too sensitive and that you should calm down? how dare he not take your side in this whole thing? how dare he take seungkwan’s side instead? how dare he tell you to message seungkwan and apologise for overreacting?

how dare he do all this, all while speaking in that gentle and lovely voice of his, not even responding to your provocations and instead remaining calm and rational?

how dare he be so sexy and attractive, all while being a true gentleman?

having your anger reach it’s highest point, you quickly stand up and head out of the bedroom to find him, and start round 2 (or rather just a continuation) of the fight.

stepping into the living room, you immediately pause, breath catching in your throat because of the sight in front of you.

seokmin, in all his tan and muscle-y glory, is sitting on the floor with his back against the couch.

shirtless.

with no make up on.

in just grey sweatpants.

lord almighty.

his head is turned to his right side, carefully and with full concentration looking at something while being lost in his thoughts. his hands are fidgeting with the strings of his sweatpants, probably due to being nervous.

upon further inspection, you follow his line of sight, only to see him looking at a picture of the two of you that is standing proudly in the centre of the shelf. his lips are slightly turned downwards in a pout, a clear sign that he’s feeling a bit sad and pitiful.

which just angers you more.

oh so now you are feeling sorry?

i’ll give you something to be sorry about.

stomping over to him, you pause once you are standing directly in front of him, eyes dark and filled with seriousness.

seokmin finally looks up at you, puppy eyes almost swaying you and distracting you from the mission you have set yourself on just 10 seconds ago.

with your thumbs inside the sides of your shorts, you waste no time in pulling both the shorts and your panties down your legs, quickly kicking them off once they hit the floor.

seokmin’s eyes widen, surprised by your sudden action.

but he can’t lie to you. because along with the surprise, there is a hint of need and want hiding in his eyes, hands probably itching to get on you.

just as he was about to push himself up and open his mouth to ask you something, you cut him off by bending down a bit and grabbing a fistful of his hair, pulling his head back harshly until it rests on the couch seat behind him.

seokmin’s reaction is immediate, a needy moan flowing straight out of his lips before he bits down on it to keep himself quiet. his eyes fluttered shut for a second, without his permission of course, before he opened them back again, pupils blown out with need and desire.

wasting no more time than needed, you step on both sides of his hips for a moment before you carefully place first one and then the other knee on both sides of his head, his hair still being grabbed by your hand tightly.

his lips open up automatically and expectantly, ready to put his mouth on his favourite body part of yours and absolutely devour you.

but you don’t let him taste you just yet, harshly pulling his head back down, showing him that you are the one in control of this situation.

seokmin groans in frustration, impatience already reaching it’s limit for him.

with dark eyes, you order him what he’s to do.

“show me how sorry you are.”

and then you are lower your pussy on his face, not caring enough to be gentle or slow, knowing that seokmin can handle it.

his lips immediately attach themselves on your pussy, tongue spreading your lips so he can take a taste of you.

in your peripheral vision you see his hands being raised up, ready to grab your thighs and probably use it to turn the situation in his favour and show his dominance with it.

not on your watch.

you quickly slap one of his hands away just as they were about to grab his another favourite part of yours, his eyes fluttering open in confusion.

you down, between your legs, where his face is, and with kind of bored voice say “keep your hands to yourself. no touching me or yourself. you can prove just how sorry you are with your mouth.”

seokmin’s eyebrows furrow in complaint but decides to indulge you and follow your order.

his tongue and lips get back to the job, the pink muscle splitting you open just so his lips can wrap themselves around your clit and suck on it-harshly. you moan as you watch him, eyes closed in concentration and enjoyment.

he tries to enter your hole with his tongue, but sadly falls short to do so, tongue a just long enough to swirl around the entrance but short enough to not be able to reach any deeper depth inside your needy hole.

his lips continue to suck instead, tongue switching to flicking your clit, the motion fast and harsh. the uneven texture of his tongue makes it feel like heaven against your clit, hence why you starts rocking your hips against his face unconsciously.

seokmin hums in approval of your action, opening his mouth wider against your lips, at this point almost like he’s trying to make out with your pussy.

you feel his sharp nose poke at your skin a bit, that beautiful and sharp nose that seokmin knows you love so so much.

especially when you use it as your seat, rocking your hips against his face as the tip of it catches on your clit deliciously.

which is exactly what you want to do now too.

grabbing the cushion in front of you for balance, you start rocking your hips even harder, fully using his face as a toy to get yourself off on.

you moan as his lips continue to split your lips open and make out with them, nose catching against your clit just like you wanted it to.

“f-fuck, so good for me baby, keep sucking on it, ah- make me cum on that pretty face of yours.”

seokmin lets out a sound that is something between a moan and a groan, eyes rolling back into his head as you speed up the movements of your hips.

you carefully peak behind yourself and down to hips sweatpants to see if he’s touching himself or if he’s listening to your order from earlier.

his hands are squeezing the sides of his sweatpants tightly, probably because he’s fighting the urge to either shove a hand down his pants and quickly jerk off while eating you out, or trying to resist the urge to touch you and squeeze your thighs harshly, just like he always does.

there’s a big bulge between his legs, as well as a watch patch on the light grey material, right where the head of his cock is.

fuck. if that isn’t the hottest thing you have ever seen.

turning your attention back to seokmin, you notice that his eyes are now open, looking up at you from between your legs, paying full attention to you now.

you look at his eyes as you continue riding his face, mouth falling open naturally as you give yourself the permission to lose yourself in the pleasure.

knowing how much he likes it when you do it, you lightly squeeze your thighs around his face, his cheeks being squished a bit as you do so.

the groan that your boyfriend lets out is that of a starved man that is ready to devour anything in front of him, his eyes black with desire rolling back into his head as you continue squeezing your thighs even more.

the moans echo in the room, sounds bouncing off the walls. your moans reach a new pitch, bordering on screams as you continue to chase your high.

through staggered breath, you continue spitting further nonesense.

“f-fuck, that’s it, be a good boy-ah- and make me cum all over t-that pretty face of yours. ah-fuck!”

seokmin decides that he can be a bit of a naughty boy and fort-fit your order if it means you will start creaming all over his face. with that in mind, he quickly grabs your thighs to keep you in place before he starts going nuts with his mouth.

his tongue just swirls around the whole lips to gather your juices and swallow them down before he sticks it inside your hole, pushing his face as far as he can just so he can. and then he starts quickly moving his whole head left and right just so he can flick your clit with his nose, intent on stimulating it as much as possible so you can finally award him with cumming all over his face.

his actions seem to work like a charm because in the matter of seconds, you are throwing your head back and screaming off the top of your lungs, hands harshly grabbing onto his hair to make sure your seat doesn’t go anywhere while you are riding off your orgasm.

you lean back a bit too far, making seokmin quickly grab your ass to keep you in position and prevent you from falling.

your movements slowly come to a halt, eyes coming back to look him in the eyes as he continues lapping on the juices that keep flowing out of your sweet pussy. his eyes are trained on your form above him, and how beautiful you look as you orgasm, all fucked out and slightly sweaty.

you slowly raise your hips away from his face, letting him finally take a deep breath in.

the two of you kind of just stare at each other for a bit, clueless as to where this leaves you, especially now that your heads start clearing up and the previous fight make it’s comeback in your brains.

you don’t say anything before you slowly and carefully put your feet on the floor again, and then stand up. seokmin’s face is that of disappointment, his imaginary puppy ears turning down as he watches you slowly turn around and head back for the bedroom.

but…he thought you said he did good? you called him a good boy? didn’t he satisfy you enough? was it not enough to show you just how sorry he was?

just as you reach the door, you turn around to look at him questioningly, only to be met with his sad face.

smiling softly and also teasingly, you ask him.

“what are you waiting for? we are not done yet. get your sweet booty on the bed so that i can show you how sorry i am, too.”

he looks at you, eyes wide in surprise, before a wide smile spreads across his beautiful face.

seokmin never got up and ran to your bedroom faster than the moment your words registered in his brain.

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tuliptiger · 3 days ago

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I've been pondering why people are so adamantly hating on Caitlyn. I can't really understand it completely unless, from an audience's perspective, you plug your ears and ignore her when she's on screen completely.

It's so hard to talk about Arcane without talking about the characters like they're people because they're really well written. They're believable with their actions. That's what a normal ass person would do in that situation I'm sure, they'd probably act more maliciously in real life tbh.

Caitlyn does so much. She's not even my favorite and she doesn't need to be for me to acknowledge and appreciate how she was written, her character arc as a whole and her place in the story and the changes she helped usher in. And I don't understand why other people can't do the same.

I'm a 100% Silco hater in a "I think he was well written, compelling and interesting character. He loved with his whole heart. I still think he made awful and bad decisions and let his pain control him and refused to do better." kind of way. People LOVE Silco where they hate Caitlyn and I don't get it.

She did better, she improved the system from the inside out, she lived and got hurt and didn't let that drive the rest of her life. She had a weak moment, Vi also had a weak moment. Vi haters point out her punching Powder all of the time as if one moment of weakness ruins a character.

And this is all over the place but I'm pointing out all of these other characters because the common thread is that they aren't perfect. Caitlyn didn't handle everything perfectly as a person who didn't choose to be born into an incredibly powerful and influential family. She didn't disown her family and fight with the rebels, she didn't personally slit all of the councilors' throats herself. Short of self flagellation or self sacrifice I don't think these people would ever like her and even if she did do all of that it still wouldn't be enough. At least from what I've seen in the past.

I hate rich people as much as the next person because I don't think they are people anymore. I think they're less than human for the path they had to take to get where they are. That isn't Caitlyn though, she's not a real person but if more people acted like her who are in her position we sure as fuck wouldn't be in the world we are in today. She was born and raised into it, with all the ignorance it covered her in, all the misinformation and bias it tried to instill into her.

If she was a Zaunite none of these complaints would exist and I'd bet money on it and isn't that a double standard. She was ignorant, had weak moments, grew, ACTIVELY sought out information and a different mind set after being traumatized and did better. And that's not enough for these people.

I think Caitlyn is a well written character and I sympathize with what she went through. How she still came out on the side of the people, how she still learns, puts her pride on the shelf to do better. She's a strong woman who is written like a person and not a narrative vehicle for class hate. To me.

"I hate Caitlyn because of the system she represents. I'm so tired of people acting like we can'thate her for that."

Let's have a long, hard talk.

This argument IS made in direct comparison to the oppressive systems we see in real life, so let's first talk about how Caitlyn compares to real world oppressive systems, her faults and the ways she fails the people she serves, and then let's talk about how you're just fucking wrong about her and how you hate the wrong character.

Caitlyn is an enforcer. Stating the obvious. She is a member of a larger system she chose to be a part of, because she wanted to serve the people. She was ignorant of the system's corruption as we see throughout season 1. Her initial intentions with becoming an enforcer are because she wants to fight injustice, defy the stuff politics of Piltover that she was raised under, and have her own identity.

At the end of season 1, several things happen to Caitlyn. She is abducted naked from her home, held hostage for at minimum 24 hours, during which time an array of things could have happened to her but of which we know for certain left her TERRIFIED of the young girl with blue hair she was abducted by. She watches that same girl fire an explosive that kills her mother. Preceding this, she has been witness to the ways Silco has harmed the people of the undercity and how he had the enforcers in his pocket in order to do it. Ekko explicitly tells her this. He tells her how Silco has ruined lives and how the enforcers were the manpower that let it happen.

Caitlyn walks away from season 1 changed in many ways. She is brokenhearted and traumatized, but still holds a strong desire to protect the innocent people of both cities. Because of who she has been up to this point, her belief is that she can rectify the wrongs by using the power of her position to do good instead of aid corruption. Her asking Vi to become an enforcer to do as much is in bad taste, yes. Which she later apologizes for and takes ownership for. That doesn't remove the good intention behind it. And it doesn't negate that Vi can later see the logic behind it. Being able to take control of a bad situation and use that power to do good instead of abusing that power to do bad, is an incredibly shaky but important position to be in. And the whole point of Caitlyn's character is how she navigates that--can she use her position to do good? As per GOOD WRITING, she's not going to get it perfect until she learns and grows.

We can acknowledge the moral ambiguity of using the grey, how it does harm, while also acknowledging the WAY it was used and for what purpose was both smart, economical, and GOOD. Doing bad things for good reasons. That's what the use of the grey was.

I'm not going to get into the memorial much, but all I will say for that, is it's an excellent example of people twisting Caitlyn's words and underselling the pain she's going through. If you can't acknowledge the right Caitlyn has to be upset at the people who just violently disrupted a memorial for mourning the loss of loved ones, I don't think you care to have a conversation about the humane treatment of others. And using Caitlyn's anger and grief as a "see?? She hates Zaunites!!" is so fucking stupid I'm not going to entertain an argument for that.

Caitlyn's setback is her trauma, her ignorance, and her heartbreak. She still isn't a fully realized character throughout most of season 2. She's learning and growing and unfortunately that is at the expense of the people she lords over while enforcing martial law. But if we acknowledge that, we also have to acknowledge the ways she changed the system so that needless suffering and punishment didn't happen. Confronting Ambessa when violence is used unlawfully. Improving the prison food and banning the use of the most inhumane cells in Stillwater. Bare minimum? Yes. But still ways she showed that she saw the Zaunites as humans and not as flesh covered problems the way Salo does. Not as problems to get rid of the way Ambessa does.

If the reason for your ire is because Caitlyn is a figure in a corrupt system, then your hatred is misdirected. The point of Caitlyn is to show the ways the system needs to change, and how the people within it who want to do good can often be misguided, but that doesn't mean they aren't good people or that they can't do good within their position.

If you fundamentally disagree with that, there isn't much of an argument to be had, but I will say that your ire is still misdirected.

I never see you guys discuss Salo or Ambessa.

Salo represents true bigotry in the system. It's a position he maintains all the way up to when his mind is commandeered by Viktor and the hexcore. Salo is the type of person who functions on confirmation bias--he already has a prejudiced view of Zaunites, and will use any opportunity to say "see? Told you so! We should put them down." Compared directly to how Caitlyn talks about them, asks Vi to help fix the system, fights against the system going too far, actively makes adjustments to change the way the system treats Zaunites, the claims that Caitlyn is a bigot don't hold up.

Ambessa IS the system. She IS the oppressive force that indiscriminately will take and take and take and sees violence as a tool and not a consequence to be avoided at all costs the way Caitlyn does. And for some fucking reason, no one who criticizes Caitlyn gives any weight to Ambessa's actions, ever. They don't discuss the way she manufactures the attack on the memorial to manipulate public opinion on Zaunites, as well as manipulate Caitlyn. They don't discuss how she sets Caitlyn up to be pressured to take the position of Commander and uses her grief, promises her justice, in order to warm Caitlyn to her and keep her as an ally, a pawn she can use. They don't discuss how she sent Maddie to be a spy, to be in Caitlyn's bed and to be as intimately close to her as possible, to make sure Caitlyn still was behaving the way she needed in order to see her plan through.

When discussing the manipulative, exploitative, and violent nature of oppressive systems, Caitlyn has become the scapegoat, when it is people like Salo and Ambessa who deserve your blame and your ire.

You wonder why people don't take your complaints about Caitlyn seriously? That's why. Because the show gave you very bold examples of oppressive individuals in control of the systems you hate, and you ignore both of them for the sake of hating on a beloved lesbian character, who is beloved because she is flawed and good natured and whose journey we enjoy because it's all about learning what to do when you're within a system that pulls you at every direction to do evil, and you still find a way to do good.

Do some more think pieces on Salo and Ambessa. Then maybe we can have nuanced discussions on Caitlyn.

#you're eating with these posts OP #words #in the back of my mind #and I don't want to post this on the main body because I genuinely don't know #is it racism? because she's like some vague asian nationality? is it because shes a woman?#nobody shit talks mel #when she is defacto #number one richest person in piltover #but we ignore that in facor of hating on cait why?#sincerely why?#and like you said we're ignoring salonand Ambessa for #what?#why?

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lotusbxtch · 2 days ago

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Preciosa

A #happypedrohours Valentine’s special

Prompt: Pero Tovar + lingerie Pairing: Pero Tovar x f!wife!Reader Word count: 4.9k

Summary: You would have never predicted that such a delicate thing would be Pero Tovar’s undoing. Rating: Explicit - 18+ only, MDNI

Warnings/tags: heavy use of Spanish phrases and nicknames, probably not period-accurate depictions of undergarments and lingerie but I tried okay?, smut - fingering (f receiving), oral (m and f receiving), Pero is a MUNCH and eats it from the back, unprotected PIV (this is the olden days and they are married, but wrap it up, folks!), prone bone, squirting, creampie, v brief cum eating, mentions of rough sex, Pero being a grump, but also soft!Pero, aftercare, reader is described as Pero's "wife" and having breasts and female genitalia but otherwise is not described it's you boo

a/n: Apologies for the tardy publishing, but work has been craaaaaazy so I’m just getting to posting this now! Thank you @happypedrohours for putting on such a fun Valentine’s Day event, and thank you to my darling @for-a-longlongtime for beta-ing for me and helping shape the story. This is my first time writing Pero as the MMC so I hope it delivers on his character! Graphic by me (for vibes only), dividers/banners by @saradika-graphics.

MASTERLIST

When your husband, Pero, known by many as ‘The Spanish Mercenary’, returns to you after his long travels, there often is a gift for you carefully tucked into his pack - especially on missions where the stakes were relatively low. Not one for verbal extollations of devotion in public, he lets his actions speak for him, bringing you exotic treasures from far flung markets in places you’ve never even heard of. Curious spices, little handmade trinkets, dried floral specimens - they never cease to amaze you, and you knew that you were often the envy of many of the other women in your village.

This latest campaign was a grueling and dangerous one, not business like usual. Trips like these usually meant there weren’t presents in tow, but you didn’t mind; Pero’s safe return afterwards was a far better gift to you. The money he brought home was something that had a growing impact, as you put every bit of it to good use on your home and farm.

A cacophony of exclamations of your neighbors alerts you to your grumpy Spaniard’s return, and you gather your skirts up to run and welcome him home after many weeks. Pero swaggers into the village on the back of his trusty steed, his armor covered in grime, as are his clothes and hair. The exhaustion is lined clearly on his face, but pure relief peeks through his hardened expression when he spots you coming towards him.

“Amor,” he calls out, dismounting his horse as you reach him. You press your body into his, claiming his lips in a sweet kiss, before he gently pushes you away.

“I will not sully you with the filth of my travels,” Pero gruffs, as if this wasn’t what happened every time he returns home. You roll your eyes at his theatrics but relent, falling into step beside him.

“Nonsense, mi esposo. I’ll always have you alive and well, filth and all,” you tut at him, giving the horse a kiss on the muzzle. She blows out air, relaxing into the familiar surroundings. When the three of you arrive at your home, Pero busies himself with grooming his mount and unpacking his bags, while you heat up water for his bath and to clean his armor. He enters your shared abode a short while later, eyeing the steaming wash water and homemade soap you’d set out for him with relief.

“Tell me about your travels, my love,” you ask as he shucks off his heavy armor with a clunk. Pero grunts in response, peeling the dirty clothing from his strong body and revealing tan skin. Once bare, he takes the wash cloth from you, soaking it with water and using it to wipe the majority of the filth off of his strong frame.

“Long, far too long,” he replies finally, a man of few words. It’s a quality you love about him; Pero is never a man of flowery prose nor insincerity. He says only what he means, and as little as is necessary to convey it. Even still, with you, he is chattier than with anyone else. He dips the cloth into the tub again, wringing out the dirty water into a smaller bucket. “Missed you, hermosa.”

“Mmm, I missed you too,” you muse, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and handing him the soap. He begins to lather the cleansing suds, washing himself in a perfunctory, efficient manner.

“How were things while I was away?” he asks, hands still soaping limbs. You fill him in on the village gossip (which he swears he doesn’t care about, but is absolutely enthralled whenever you reveal some new secret) while he cleans himself. He much prefers to listen to you chatter away, the soft lilt of your voice a balm to his soul after many days apart. Sometimes, you stumble on your words, getting distracted by the nakedness of his body, the lean muscle and broad expanse of his shoulders. When he starts sudsing his soft cock, you lose your words completely.

Pero smirks, knowing full well what the sudden silence means. “See something you like, mi amor?” he teases, stepping into a shallow basin before using the rest of the warm water to rinse the soap from his body. You simultaneously giggle and rub your thighs together, arousal beginning to simmer in your body.

“Yes,” you purr mischievously, noticing his rapidly-hardening length. “Let me show you how much I missed you.”

After sating yourselves with each other’s bodies, you and Pero lay intertwined in your shared bed. “I’m glad you’re back,” you murmur, hand tracing the paths of scars along his battle-battered skin.

Pero presses a kiss to your forehead. “I am as well. Oh, that reminds me.” He climbs out of bed, padding towards his belongings unpacked from the saddlebags. Pulling out a carefully-wrapped parcel, he walks back to you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Open it,” he commands softly, placing the package in your hands.

“Pero,” you tut, “you didn’t need to get me anything. It’s enough that you returned in one piece.” Pero grunts but the corner of his mouth tips up, happy to indulge his wife. You gently unfold the outer packaging. When it unfurls, you gasp, turning your face to your smirking husband wordlessly.

“You always ask me about what unique things I have seen in the East,” Pero explains. “Many of them I cannot divulge, or are unable to make it back with me. But this was a gift from the wife of one of the men who hired William and I during this last job.” His eyes meet yours, softening. “I spoke of my love for you during a meal one night, and she wanted you to have something from her as a token of her gratitude. She knows what it is like to have a spouse afar.” You’re surprised he had spoken of you; most people could never get a single word out of him on a good day.

You look down at the bundle of sumptuous fabric, light as air and softer than a newborn kitten. It shimmers slightly in the light of your fireplace, a pale golden hue with the warmth of sunshine. As it runs over your hands, you notice a slight chill run across your skin. It’s unlike anything you’d ever seen before.

“It is the finest Chinese silk,” Pero continues, “made from the cocoons of special grubs. The fabric created from the strands has a cooling effect. She thought that an extraordinary woman deserves a rare gift.”

“Thank you,” you breathe, kissing his hand. Suddenly, a thought occurs. You cock your head to the side curiously. “How does she know that I am an extraordinary woman?” you ask.

Pero begins to turn beet red, and you start to giggle. “I… may have indulged a bit too much in their rice wine,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. You bark a laugh.

“Mi amor,” you chuckle, “if the worst thing that happens when you’re drunk is that you profess your love for your wife, I’ve clearly married the right man.” You pepper his face with kisses as he grouses, but you feel his hand caress your arm lovingly.

“I’ll make something beautiful from it,” you tell him, folding it back up into the packaging carefully and storing it with your sewing items.

“May I see it when you finish?” Pero asks, curling his body around yours once more and pulling you flush with him.

You nod. “Of course,” you promise, an idea already beginning to form.

Pero leaves the following week for another job, and you begin working on your surprise for him. As you observe the qualities of the fine silk, you realize it should be turned into a special occasion garment, something worn when you want to feel luxurious. Pero told you before about the beautiful flowing dresses and robes that Eastern ladies wore, which were markedly different from the heavier gowns typical in your homeland. As your dear husband wasn’t the most descriptive with words, you had to take a guess at how they looked and were constructed. Luckily, a traveling merchant struck up a conversation with you and, as it turned out, he had visited the East as well and helped to fill in the design details you were missing.

Every spare minute outside of tending to the farm, selling your produce and flowers at the market, and tidying your home is used to painstakingly cut, sew, and embroider your silken treasure. It is a silver lining, then, that it takes Pero three weeks to return home to you.

As usual, you greet him upon his entry to the village, walking home beside Pero and his mare while he recounts his latest completed job. This time, however, when he arrives inside to bathe, you move to slip away to the bedroom. Pero grabs your arm gently.

“Am I truly so ripe that you must leave while I wash?” he jokes, a smirk painting his lips but confusion lingering in his eyes.

You smile demurely, looking up through your lashes. “I have completed my silk project and thought you’d like to see it,” you explain. “Come to the bedroom when you’re clean.” Pero’s smirk widens more, and he visibly relaxes at the reassurance.

“Ah, well, by all means, do not let me stop you,” he responds, watching you as you retreat and shoot him another smile over your shoulder. Huffing a small chuckle, he hastily scrubs his body clean.

Entering the bedroom, you pull the finished pieces from the chest in the corner of the room. Pero likes seeing you in anything or nothing, so you’re not worried about his approval. But there is a part of you that hopes seeing you in your new outfit unleashes the feral lust that sometimes simmers just under the surface of his contained demeanor. Your hands slide along the silk, caressing your own body, slick beginning to gather between your thighs with the thought of him taking you roughly.

Just as you finish adjusting everything to your liking, Pero walks into the room, wearing his simple sleeping pants, forgoing a shirt. His reaction catches you completely off guard.

Your husband - the broad, intimidating warrior, feared by many men across the continents - stands frozen in place as he scans your adorned body with wide eyes. He takes in the long, elegant robe, its open style fluttering slightly with your movements.

The gown, made from the same pale golden silk, flows beautifully over your frame, reaching the floor and ruffling gently at your feet. It tapers towards your bust in an empire waist, where you’ve meticulously stitched crimson tiger lily motifs across the chest - Pero’s favorite flower. Delicate straps hold it up on your shoulders, and both the dress and robe are gossamer thin, the sumptuous fabric leaving little to the imagination. The silk creates an ethereal glow across your curves from the reflection of the fireplace, as if you are encased in a sacred golden light.

Pero doesn’t move. His chest heaves, and his hands repeatedly twitch and clench at his sides. You’ve never seen him so tense in your life.

“Pero?” you try, an edge of laughter lightening your concerned tone. “Is everything alright?” Your eyes flick downwards, picking at the hem of a billowing sleeve in confusion. You know it may not have been what he expected, but it’s a far cry from how you thought he’d react.

You feel Pero’s fingertips gently grip your chin. “Look at me, querida,” he rasps, voice tight. You bring your eyes to his and are instantly hit with the intensity of his gaze upon yours.

“You… I….” Desperation laces his face as he tries to explain his reaction. The sudden realization hits you.

You would have never predicted that such a delicate thing would be Pero Tovar’s undoing.

Pero inhales a shaky breath. “Mi vida…” he whispers. “My beautiful wife… you look so soft, so delicate.” He holds a hand out as if to touch you, but retreats. “These hands…” Pero swallows hard. “They are too rough for something so pure.” His eyes cast downwards, and you know he’s not only talking about his callouses.

You slip both hands to the sides of his face, lifting his gaze back to you. You allow all of your desire, your love, your lust to suffuse into your face. With your heart aching with the weight of your devotion for this man - so gruff and harsh on the outside, but utter bone-melting softness inside - you search his eyes pleadingly.

“Touch me, Pero,” you beg, bringing his hands to your waist. “I need your hands, roughness and all.”

Pero’s body shudders as his palms make contact with the soft silk on your body. He gently smooths his thumbs across your hip bones, eliciting a whimper from your throat. They travel back up the curve of your waist, brushing the swell of your breasts, and your nipples pebble at his touch. Eyes focused on following the path of his fingers, he traces circles around the peaks, more soft, desperate sounds coming from your mouth.

You stare into his eyes with unwavering love. “I missed you, mi amor,” you whisper.

Pero slowly leans forward to press his forehead against yours. “I am here, mi esposa,” he murmurs back, his hands pressing more surely, feeling the slip of your gown beneath his fingers. You can feel the fabric catching slightly on the rougher parts of his hands.

Leaning forward, you capture his lips in a slow, sensual kiss. You missed the way he tastes, the quiet grunts he makes as he claims your mouth with his. Biting his lip, you pull back and say breathlessly, “Show me how much you missed me.”

Pero presses his mouth to yours hungrily, his fear of sullying something so divine beginning to wane. As he walks you backwards towards your bed, he gathers the fabric of your robe and dress to your hips. Gently, he lays you down onto the bed, the gilded silk fanning out around you. Pero pushes the fabric further up, exposing your dripping core to the air. A rough groan rips from his throat.

“Mmm, mi vida, you are so wet for me,” he grits, fingers tracing over your labia, making you whine in desire.

“Pero,” you moan. You spread your thighs open, inviting him in. Pero cages your body in with his, kissing you fiercely while slipping two of his fingers into you, your slick aiding him to slide in all the way to the last knuckle. You keen his name in pleasure, and he feels you clench down on him, hot and sticky. His kisses trail from the corner of your lips to your jaw, then down your neck, pumping in and out of you to build your pleasure.

“You make me want to be anything but delicate with you,” Pero grunts, swirling his fingertips against the soft spongy spot inside you that makes you see stars.

You curse and moan at his admission, your earlier desire for him to take you roughly coming back to the surface. “Do not be gentle,” you beg him. A wild look crosses his face, and he nips at your throat while his fingers thrust more rapidly inside you. Mewling, you spread even wider for him, driving his digits further inside the hot clutch of you.

“I want to feel you break for me, amorcita,” Pero growls, then thumbs your clit in tight circles.

Your orgasm surges up and crests, and Pero slaps his hand over your mouth just in time to quiet the shriek erupting from your throat. He pins you down and groans into your hair roughly. A rush of slick coats his already-drenched fingers inside of you while he guides you through the waves of your rapture. When your breathing begins to calm and your voice peters into tiny whimpers, Pero removes his hand from your mouth. You watch, entranced, as he sucks your essence from his other fingers.

He curses. “I have traveled countless foreign lands, and still have tasted nothing sweeter than you,” Pero groans, then sweeps you into a deep kiss, feeding you your own flavor. His hard cock presses into your side, throbbing and insistent.

You reach down to caress his length. Pero shivers and bites your lip in return. “Let me return the favor,” you whisper, sliding your body down the bed. He pulls down his sleep pants, the thick swell of him springing to attention. You love Pero’s cock and never miss a chance to worship it.

His warrior hands gently grip your skull as you lave your tongue across the expanse of him, tasting the salty musk of his most intimate parts. It clouds your head with potent desire.

“Fuck, amorcita,” Pero gasps, your wide, glassy eyes locked on his. “You have the face of an angel and the mouth of a fucking devil.” His words make you moan on his length and slide his shaft even further down your throat. His hands tense, his control slipping further away, and he gently pulls you off of him with a pop.

“I cannot have this end so soon. I need to be buried in you,” he grits. He gets off of the bed, coming to stand at the side. Excited shivers run down your spine, knowing exactly what he wants from you. He knows it’s your favorite way to take him.

You turn your body to face him, draping your garments off the mattress, and lay on your back, exposing the apex of your thighs to your husband once again.

Pero’s gaze fixes on your slick pussy. “You are the most stunning goddess,” he croons while he takes himself in hand and rubs the swollen head through the evidence of your arousal. The heat in your cheeks flares hotter at his words.

“Please, Pero,” you whine. “I crave you. My soul needs you.” Sweat dews up across your skin from your desperation.

In one slow, long, devastating thrust, Pero slides home.

You both cry out at the pure pleasure of flesh meeting flesh, of your bodies joining once more. It feels overwhelming, inevitable, not of this world. For you, no man could ever sew themselves as deeply into the fabric of your spirit than Pero. As your body adjusts and welcomes him in once more, you gaze deeply at each other, breaths syncing, an electric current running through your veins. He fills every iota of empty space within you. You feel everything.

When he bottoms out a few seconds later, the silken fabric of your robe brushes his shins, the unfamiliar feeling causing a shudder of pleasure to skitter across his body. Pero grips the backs of your thighs as if to tether him to this realm, awash in intense desire for you. A breathy moan snakes out of your throat when he pulls back and thrusts in once again. Every nerve alights in euphoria at his intrusion. His eyes roam across your body, drinking in the sight: every curve of your supple body writhing in pleasure; every freckle and mole; the way the thin sheen of sweat on your skin shimmers in the light of the fire; the way your brows pinch together and lips falls open as he hits that devastating spot inside of you; the shine of your slick and cream coating his rigid length as he works you relentlessly.

It’s both everything he could ever need and not nearly enough to sate him.

Pero reaches down between your thighs and thumbs your clit. You keen, back arching off the bed. “I can feel you tightening for me,” he rasps as his hips punch an unforgiving rhythm into you. “Shatter for me. Come on my cock, preciosa.”

At that favorite pet name - preciosa - your body obeys his command with a snap. A shockwave of climactic euphoria races through your veins. His name leaves your lips as a sob over and over again, your orgasm wringing you dry while Pero clenches his jaw and guides you through your peak. Blinking your eyes open, you’re met with Pero already staring deeply into them. Devotion and amazement gleam in his gaze.

“Tan bonita,” he praises. “You always look stunning when you come for me.” His thrusts have slowed down, gently maintaining a strong buzz of arousal between the two of you.

“Hold me close, mi esposo,” you demand, and Pero knows exactly what you want. “Mold your body to mine.”

Pero gently shushes you. “Si, amor; I shall give you what you want,” he responds and pulls out gently. Evidence of your orgasm soaks his shaft, dripping onto your thighs.

As Pero gets into position, you roll yourself onto your belly, shifting your silk lingerie around to avoid tangles. You sweep the robe and dress off of your lower half and part your thighs. He crawls over you, caging your body once more while he nudges your legs open further. Back arched, your cunt glints invitingly; it is a potent sight and the only thing to ever break Pero to beg on his knees for it.

He would worship at your altar for hours if you let him. Drowning between your thighs, eating his favorite meal in the world, sounds incredible to your husband. His insatiability for your carnal pleasures knows no bounds. You’ve never met a man who loved eating you out nearly as much as he does. If he could bathe in your essence, he would.

Pero is ruled by only two things: coin, and your pussy.

Before your mind drifts back from reflection on its own, it is yanked back to the current moment by a hot stripe licked up the seam of you. Gasping, you reach back, tangling your fingers in Pero’s hair as he spreads your folds open for him to devour. He pulls your hips up in the air to better reach your swollen pearl. His insistent tongue swirls around the nub, building you up to get another orgasm.

“Come again for me and I will give you my cock for as long as you can take it,” he barters, rocketing you rapidly towards another crest. The intense pressure tells you it will be messy. That only encourages your husband.

“There you are,” he says as your body pulls tight. Your limbs quake, everything hanging in precarious balance.

“Pero,” you wail, the intense pleasure at a knife’s edge. He says nothing, but takes that as his sign to suck your clit in between his lips and make you break.

And you do, stunningly hard. Pero seals his lips around your pussy as you scream with your wet release, his throat bobbing with every swallow of your hallowed cum. A long, low moan rumbles in his broad chest from your sweet, deep flavor coating his tongue. Resting your head on the bed sheets, you pant softly, trying to recover.

Soon after, you feel the bed shift as Pero hovers over your prone body. His mushroom tip swipes through your folds once more, and he kisses your bare shoulders while he notches at your entrance.

“Tell me how much you want me, preciosa,” he rumbles. “I need to hear it from your lips.”

“With everything in me, Pero,” you whimper, pressing up against his hardness. You feel him throb against your folds. “Please, please make love to me again.”

Pero obeys, sliding himself to the hilt swiftly. Your broken cry echoes around the bedroom. His forearms bracket either side of your body, his entire front pressed against your back as he thrusts deeply and slowly into you. The masculine, musky, undeniably Pero scent wraps around you. You’ve never felt more protected and safe with your strong, brave husband completely surrounding you.

Delirious whimpers and gasps swirl in the air, intermixed with the wet shlick of Pero’s length filling you up again and again. Accenting the symphony of explicit sounds is the constant caress of your silk lingerie on your skin; a cooling touch to bring your heated body back to Earth. It’s a heady concoction, a sensorial delight unlike anything you’ve experienced. You’re rendered almost speechless, only expressions of pleasure and your husband’s name escaping your lips.

“I will never get enough of you,” Pero moans, slipping his hand under your hips to let you grind on his fingers.

You keen sharply. “Oh god, so good,” you mewl, rolling your hips against his big paw. Slick rolls down from your dripping pussy and soaks his hand and the bed, slippery and hot. Pero runs his tongue up the length of your neck, sucking love bites into your flesh as his thrusts come harder and faster.

“You are everything to me,” he hoarsely whispers, his voice breaking slightly at the end. “Gods above, I do not need anything but you. You beautiful, precious angel. Light of my life.” You sob in pure love and pleasure at his words as your orgasm rises higher in every cell in your body.

“Pero,” you cry out. “Fuck, I’m going come.” Tremors begin to wrack your body as your cunt tightens around Pero’s cock like a vice, so close to your rapture.

He chokes out a loud moan, now pounding into you with abandon. “Come for me, mi vida,” he begs, breaths exhaled harshly. Sweat drips from his broad frame onto your back and the lingerie, his muscled thighs tense with exertion. “Give it to me. Let go for me, and let me fill you with my seed.”

Pero hitches his hips just slightly, and the new angle hits that magical spot deep in you, flinging you right into your orgasm. A throttled, grunting squeal erupts from your throat, and you clamp down on his thick cock, your juices squirting onto his hand. Pero bellows, then shoves himself as deeply as he can, shooting his searing cum into you. He bites down on your shoulder, whimpering loudly with every spurt of his seed released.

It feels like the world explodes and caves in on itself, with nothing left but shivering desire and love in its place.

Tears stream down your heated cheeks, falling wetly onto the linens. You’re gasping for air, your husband collapsed on top of your back, your bodies melded as one while you catch your breath. Sniffling, then laughing wetly, you turn to kiss the forearm that you can reach.

“God, I love you so much, mi amor,” you profess with a watery hiccup, completely overwhelmed. Pero grunts and presses his lips against your shoulder, his chest pressed to your back.

“I love you more than you will ever understand,” he rumbles, trailing kisses across your salty, dewy skin, then tips your chin gently to the side as far as it will go so he can sweetly capture his lips with yours. Pero carefully lifts himself up, and then slides his softening cock gently from the hold of your cunt, a stream of his cum spilling out in its wake. You murmur happily when you feel the warm liquid roll down your clit, twitching and spent. He kisses each of your buttocks, slurping the escaped cum, and then rises to his feet to pad to your wash basin. Dampening a cloth, he returns to the bed and gently cleans your skin, eliciting a giggle from you.

Pero huffs a laugh. “What are you giggling about, little loon?” he teases, gently smacking your ass.

You muffle another giggle, then turn to him, smiling. “If only your enemies could see big, bad Pero Tovar, the feared warrior, cleaning up his wife’s pussy so gently.”

You didn’t even need to see Pero’s face; you could practically feel the eyeroll. He slaps your ass harder this time, ripping a gasp from you.

“Careful, preciosa,” Pero warns, but the threat is hollow. A smirk threatens to break out across his face. “Or next time I’ll be rougher.”

He lays one more hard slap to your backside, and you moan quietly, another dribble of his cum pushed out from your cunt. He growls at the sight, then gently kisses the red handprint beginning to show on your soft skin - a veritable masterclass in contrasts.

Finishing his cleaning, he throws the cloth to the side, then rejoins you in bed, rolling you both to your side so you can face each other. Your eyes roam his face, smiling serenely at him.

Suddenly your face lights up. “Oh, I almost forgot! I made you something too!” You leap off of the bed, quickly pressing your fingers to your core to stem the flow of him from inside you. Rummaging through your chest, you exclaim, “Ah-HAH! Found it!” You toss it onto the bed.

A pile of that same silk fabric lands by Pero’s hands. He picks it up gingerly, unfolding it as his brows knit together quizzically.

“Is this…?” he starts, confused, while the shape of the item is slowly revealed to him.

“I made you something too,” you titter, as it dawns on him that what you’ve made is a small pair of flowy shorts, just big enough to contain his manhood and pert ass.

He raises his scarred eyebrow at you. “This is… for me?” he asks incredulously. You erupt into giggles, slapping your hand over your mouth. Pero’s signature scowl etches over his face.

“Yes,” you laugh. “I thought it would be nice for both of us to have something made from the silk. Do you like it?” More giggles erupt from you as you imagine your gruff, tough husband sporting the tiny, sheer shorts. Pero’s frown continues to deepen.

“Oh, you are in so much trouble,” he grouses, a playful lilt to his tone, and he lunges for you, pulling you down to tickle and kiss you.

LOTUSBXTCH MASTERLIST

Notification tags: @mountainsandmayhem @alltheirdamn @perotovar @sin-djarin @syd-djarin @mermaidgirl30 @yxtkiwiyxt @almostfoxglove @almostempty @whocaresstillthelouvre @baronessvonglitter @qveerthe0ry @sp00kymulderr @guiltyasdave @pedropeach @murder-wife @burntheedges @goodwithcheese @penvisions @evolnoomym @joelmillerisapunk @joelstummy @arcanefox207 @qunariagenda @milla-frenchy @avastrasposts @luxurychristmaspudding @reggiesfilthylittlesecret @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @jeewrites @kungfucapslock @itwasntimethatdidit40 @swankyorange @chippedowlmug @reallyrallyauthor

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pero tovar #pedro pascal characters #the great wall #happy pedro hours #bouquetsofpedro challenge #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you

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utilitycaster · 1 day ago

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relevant to this point by @pawthorn but I think lower-level D&D combat is often sold short for being boring, when I actually think it often is much better for Actual Play, particularly unedited AP shows. I've been thinking about this again since starting Nein Again and definitely agree seeing the first combat of EXU Divergence.

Dithering over potential actions pumps the brakes on the action of combat, so when your options are essentially dash, dodge, or make one attack and when your only bonus action is "try to get other people to rush the soldiers" that keeps the game running since the choice is pretty easy. Similarly, I think high level combat can suffer from feeling dragged out or low stakes. Brennan once said that most combat is over in four rounds, so for something to feel like a real threat, dropping one person a round in a six-person party is not unreasonable.

Here's the thing: HP scales, but even when upcast, Cure Wounds doesn't keep up. In L1 or L2 (or L0, as in Divergence) combat, you might have 10 HP and go down with two very normal hits; but your L1 cleric can bring you back to full with one good roll; and you also can probably reliably deal 5 damage on average when you hit. It feels realistic, balanced, and deadly all at once. To achieve a similar threat at L14, you'll need a creature that can reliably do 50 or so damage. At some point, at higher levels, between the variety of options and the sheer stacks of numbers, a lot of the threat goes out. Obviously there's ways to address this! I am reminded again of the 16 HP dragon which I mentioned in a different post recently; combat as a puzzle or with ticking clocks and environmental factors can give it weight at those high levels (as the post says, re: 4e D&D dragons, "their claws and teeth didn’t do damage, they did numbers"). The L14 fight at the end of EXU Calamity manages this given the need for Laerryn to alter the course of the leywright; a lot of late-game Nein combat still feels very real given the party's martial cohesion and the meatgrinder that was Aeor; the personal and environmental elements do a ton for the making the Chroma Conclave dragon fights feel special. But there is something special about the EXU Divergence crew, where the fact that a stiletto is armor-piercing, or a single crit on a death save, or access to your first spell, or an item that, while formidable, does an amount of damage a high level character would scoff at, can turn the tide entirely.

#cr spoilers #exu divergence

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satorus-princess · 2 days ago

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Smiles and Sandcastles

a/n: canon au but divergent - everyone is happy and no one turned bad okay 🥰 includes geto sensei which we were deprived of. beach day!!

fem!reader x gojo satoru

“where the hell are those three?” gakuganji asks, disgruntled. the higher-ups from jujutsu high are gathered in a meeting, which you, gojo and geto were expected to be there for as well.

little did they know that the three of you were currently lounging on beach towels as the sun beamed down. geto was lying back with his arms crossed behind his head, eyes closed as he soaked up the heat, and you had your legs stretched out with gojo's head resting on your lap, a pair of sunglasses sitting on his peaceful face.

“this is wayyy better than a boring meeting,” gojo murmurs contently. he peeks up through the gap in the top of his sunglasses and smirks. “and a much better view than that old man.”

you playfully flick his forehead at his comment, knowing that he's referring to your boobs. he yelps dramatically, rubbing the spot that you had flicked.

“even if you're being a perv, i agree,” you say, glancing up at the students messing around in the azure water, a smile on your lips. well, students, excluding fushiguro who was, now, scowling under his own beach umbrella after itadori had splashed salty water onto him. of course, eliciting a loud-ass laugh from gojo. “they deserve this.”

“mm, they do. and we do too...”

“don't forget the fact that we'll be scolded by yaga next time he sees us,” geto reminds you and gojo, though he doesn't seem to care either.

“hey, it's not our fault they decided to have a meeting the day we decided to come to the beach,” gojo defends jokingly, as you all know that this was planned after to avoid another boring, irritating meeting with the higher-ups. “besides, we aren't students anymore.”

“you say that as if you aren't getting into trouble at least once a week, satoru,” geto snorts, and you laugh in response knowing how true that is.

“hey! don't gang up on me. i'm always doing the right thing, they just don't think so.”

“of course, ‘toru. let's get some ice cream,” you suggest, patting his hair as his head is still on your lap. “do you want one, geto?”

“nah, i'm good, thank you.”

“alright, let us know if you change your mind," you say, taking gojo's hand when he stands up and offers it to you. you stretch a little before lacing your fingers with his again. you slip on your sandals and gently tug gojo with you towards the ice cream stand. “let's get some for the kids, too.”

“yeah, especially megumi. he needs one to get rid of that scowl,” gojo chuckles softly, remembering the earlier events. “and then, I'll drag him back to the water.”

“you're a menace, ‘toru. leave the poor boy alone. i think itadori would have more fun getting dragged into the water.”

“well, yeahhhh but that's what makes it less fun for me, if he enjoys it.”

you shake your head in amusement, laughing at his reasoning. “you really are a menace.”

you both wait in line at the ice cream stand, a few people ahead of you which was to be expected on such a sunny day. gojo's arms wrap around your waist and he leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder while you wait in the queue.

“you look really pretty, you know,” he murmurs, his warm breath tickling your ear. he turns his head to press a soft kiss to your neck before resting his chin back on your shoulder. “all tanned and carefree.”

“that's because of you. no one would've had so much fun today if you didn't suggest going to the beach. it really was needed.”

“probably one of the best ideas i've had. the kids get to have fun, we get to avoid the higher-ups, and i get to see you in this pretty little bikini.”

you snort softly in response. “well, i have to admit that you look pretty yourself. in your pretty little swim shorts,” you mimic his tone, but your words are sincere. he laughs, keeping his arms vined around you as you step forward when the queue gets shorter.

soon, you arrive at the front of the ice cream stand, ordering one for yourself, for gojo, and the students. gojo slips his card out of the pocket of his swim shorts to pay for the ice cream before he balances four of the cones between his fingers and you do the same with the other four.

“we might need to walk faster before these ice creams melt all over our hands,” you say, quickening your pace.

gojo smirks and suddenly runs towards the area where all your belongings are. “last one there is a loser,” he calls out to you.

you shake your head at his words, laughing before you run after him. despite laughing, your eyes gentle, knowing that he's genuinely having fun as he's able to let go of his duties for today.

he obviously beats you, grinning as he watches you catch up. you're slightly out of breath, simply wanting to collapse back onto your beach towel because of the heat. he watches you, amused, before he calls out to the kids to get the ice cream. you hand one over to fushiguro as he's already nearby under the beach umbrella and he mutters out a “thanks”. you give two of the other ice cream cones to nobara and itadori, while gojo gives the rest to the second-year students.

“thank you, sensei!”

as the kids sit and stand around with their ice creams, you settle back onto your beach towel, your knees bent as you sit up, beginning to eat your ice cream. gojo sits down beside you, half of his ice cream somehow already gone. he stares out at the ocean, which his beautiful eyes reflect.

he's relatively quiet and this makes a singular eyebrow of yours arch curiously and with a hint of concern.

“is everything okay, ‘toru? you're weirdly quiet,” you point out. it's only when he turns his gaze to you that you realise you don't need to be concerned. even if his eyes are mostly hidden behind his sunglasses, you can see the swirl of emotions in them.

a moment passes before he nods softly. “yeah... i'm actually just really happy right now.”

your expression immediately softens at his words, seeing the genuine smile on his lips and the hint of vulnerability in his eyes. he leans against you, watching the students enjoy their ice creams. he's glad he's able to give the students time to relax and be happy... to be kids.

as his head rests on your shoulder, you turn to give his soft hair a kiss letting your lips linger for a moment longer. you hear him hum contently at your kiss as he continues to eat his ice cream and you do the same.

both of you stay like that together, cherishing the joyous and carefree moments with everyone. it's peaceful even if it's loud. everything just feels right in this moment.

but after a while, the ice cream appears to give gojo more energy than before, not wanting to relax in the sun anymore. he stands up and stretches with a dramatic groan before he crouches down next to geto who is still stretched out on his beach towel.

“hey, suguru?” gojo says quietly, the mischief in his tone evident.

“what?”

“bet you can't build a better sandcastle than me,” he snorts. geto peeks an eye open, raising his eyebrow at the 28-year-old sorcerer.

“you're ridiculous, satoru,” geto huffs, closing his eye. then, he sits up. “... you're gonna lose that bet. i'd obviously build a better and bigger one.”

“no way, i already got it all planned out in my head. it'll be fit for my princess.” he throws a cheeky wink your way. you roll your eyes playfully but you can't help the small laugh that slips out.

“you're on.”

“you gotta buy me a supply of mochi when you lose,” gojo says confidently with that annoying smirk of his.

“when you lose, you have to put blue hair dye in principal yaga's shampoo.”

a shiver runs down gojo's spine at the thought of having to do that. but his confidence comes back a second later as they shake on it.

with an amused yet gentle smile, you observe them seeing their younger selves again. even if it was only for today. gojo was still smiling genuinely as he determinedly worked hard on his sandcastle; this time his smile was filled with youthful amusement and happiness.

if only things could stay this way.

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moxogeni · 3 days ago

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>What would you do if your desires contradicted the desires of another individual egoist? How would your egoist society deal with two people wanting to build a house in the same spot? Then I'd probably try to resolve it peacefully, via some sort of trade, move to another spot, or, possibly violence. In any case it would be in my logical best interest to make violence a last resort.

>It doesn't matter whether or not those standards are decided upon democratically, because as long as there are standards then you don't have the freedom to fall short of them?... Individual subsistence labor still has standards you must meet. It matters that you decided the standards yourself, that you are beholden to your own account, that you are autonomous. The regulations placed upon by the natural world are significantly different than those placed upon by fellow humans. The first is simply a fact of life, while the second places you at the arbitrary discretion of others. You are beholden to arbitrary forces beyond your control, and as a result that degrades the individual. The fact that it is humans causes unique humiliation. Imagine if you were to fall over. You would feel much more angry if you were pushed by a human, than if you were tripped by a tree root.

>If your individual subsistence labor does not provide you with an adequate means of subsistence, then you will get sick or die. In a modern industrial society, your work is far easier than that of a quasi-primitive (I will henceforth refer to my ideal as "quasi-primitive", as I feel pre-industrial does not adequately represent my ideas, since pre-industrial can also lead to technologically coercive forms. Quasi-primitive is more accurate since it combines the autonomy and freedom of primitive without the reduced technology) or primitive man, this is by your own admission. Due to this fact, the feeling of being "unsatisfied with one's job" is abundant. To fill this need for satisfaction with their labor, people create surrogate activities for themselves. These are artificial goals whose completion does require significant effort. Most people would say that they receive more satisfaction from their surrogate activities than they do their job. In a quasi-primitive or primitive world, the effort required to satisfy one's biological needs will satisfy this need. However, surrogate activities are less satisfying than primitive labor. This can be seen in the fact that the pursuit of surrogate activities never stops. We constantly fill our days with surrogate activities. They are not as fulfilling as primitive labor, which is supported by willingness of primitive peoples to simply sit around and not do much. The need in today's society to be constantly entertained is one created by our dissatisfaction with our work. Here is the definition of surrogate activity for clarification: "Given a person who devotes much time and energy to the pursuit of goal X, ask yourself this: If he had to devote most of his time and energy to satisfying his biological needs, and if that effort required him to use his physical and mental faculties in a varied and interesting way, would he feel seriously deprived because he did not attain goal X? If the answer is no, then the person’s pursuit of goal X is a surrogate activity". If you're interested in a way better explanation, I recommend ISAIF, where this idea originated. Anyway, to address your original point, I'd say that in an Industrialized society, a failure to satisfy the need described above leads to mental suffering, while in a quasi-primitive society it leads to death. The reason the latter is preferable is because death is either a neutral or good thing. This is because when you die, you simply stop existing. You feel nothing in this state. As a result, you experience no pain or pleasure. The absence of pain is good since it prevents suffering, but the absence of pleasure is not bad since there is no "thing" which has a lack of pleasure. This means that death sums up to a net good, or even conservatively a net neutral. Contrasted with living, with both suffering and pleasure. In this case, the presence of suffering and pleasure produces a net neutral. Even if one were assume living was a fundamentally "good" thing, the state of being dead nullifies any goals or wishes you had in life, fulfilling a "net neutral" view.

>Do you think people have never been proud of collective achievements? [...] you are arbitrarily positioning collective pride as lesser than individual pride. In any case, I'm perfectly content with sacrificing individual pride if it means people aren't going to starve to death because people decided farming wasn't fulfilling and creative enough. I'm not saying that you can't be proud of collective achievements, but this is merely a surrogate activity (as described in the paragraph above).

>Not only are you arbitrarily declaring pride as a virtue in and of itself I like being proud of something here because when you feel pride you feel good, not because it's a "virtue" (which I do not care about anyway).

>So my question would be this: why do you think that this is the case? What reason do you have to believe the superstructure is independent of the base rather than dependent on it? Because one can easily imagine a feudal sci-fi world or a Communist agrarian one. Political structures are determined by history and whether or not there is enough stability to support such a society.

>A party does not become the vanguard by forcing itself on the people, it becomes the vanguard when the people seek its guidance and support over the guidance and support of other parties. And then the vanguard uses its power to set up a dictatorship. Concentrating power is not a good idea. Centralized revolutions do have a higher chance of succeeding, but they degenerate into autocracy.

>I wasn't talking about dependence on another individual person, I was talking about dependence on other people in general. You can easily replace "Person A" with "Group A" and get the exact same result.

>That potential should be mitigated in order to prevent abuse. Which is why I advocate for what I advocate for. My system would better mitigate this than any Industrial one.

>But in your individual egoist society built around might makes right, you have not eliminated coercion. On the contrary, you have made it more blatant and violent by eliminating any social means of mitigating and preventing coercion and abuse. There will still be coercion, but I'd rather have my safety be in my own hands rather than in the hands of a state or commune that I have no possibility of ever individually standing up for my own ego to. Whatever method of collective you choose, it would exercise far more power over an individual than another individual. At least I have a chance with the individual.

>I think you would change your mind on that pretty quickly if you were diabetic. Well, given the fact that since the Industrial revolution happened, cases of diabetes have been increasing significantly, I'd say it'd be pretty unlikely most people'd get it. These statistics are just since 1958, not even the beginning of Industrialization, and they've shot up sixfold.

https://www.physicaltherapy.com/articles/diabetes-in-adults-current-guidelines-4795

Anyway your argument is "if you were dependent on industrialism, you'd be for it!". And if you'd been paying attention to my core values, you'd understand that this statement is completely correct. I'll always do what's in my best interest, and if that means keeping my life in exchange for Industrial coercion, by all means I'd embrace some form of Ego-mutualism or Ego-communism. Even so, you'd continue to argue that my life is threatened by a lack of Industrial technology, arguing the 30-year-old life expectancy that has remained consistent until the Industrial revolution. Disregarding that that number is heavily skewed by infant mortality rates, the threat to my life is much less than being day-to-day dependent on Industrialism due to my diability. I'd be willing to die at 30 from natural causes if it meant I lived a free and fulfilled life.

>You put the prefix "hyper" in front of these words, but you have yet to define what it means in the context. What makes hyper-specialization and hyper-interdependence qualitatively different from normal specialization and normal interdependence? I mean that we are so interconnected in Industrialism that it's virtually incomparable to a quasi-primitive society. Almost everything that you own was not built by you, but by someone else in a factory you've never seen before. If you were to try to build everything you owned, you'd have to quit your job. Our hyper-specialization is, again, relative to an Industrial society. In a quasi-primitive society, we all have, more or less, the same set of skills. Some people may choose to expand the domain of their abilities, picking up things like quilt-making or gunsmithing. These specializations will not be undergone by a majority of people, who will live hunter-gatherer existences. The majority of people could trade simpler things like carved bowls, meat, fur, or wood to the specialized individuals in exchange for their product which the other individual cannot create on their own. This is contrasted to a Hyper-specialized society, where each individual is focused on a narrow part of the entire Industrial machine.

alright.

I'll start with Lenin first, then move to Marx. Lenin was an autocrat and a dictator. There's no way around it. He was unelected and created a one-party state. This was due to the fact that the revolution was led by a vanguard, which the members of, once they succeeded in overthrowing the old government, could easily set up a self-serving dictatorship. He's not a Marxist, and he's not a Socialist.

Since Lenin obviously did not in any way uphold the vision of Marx, I'll tackle him separately. A (stateless) communist society does eliminate many hierarchies, but leaves the most coercive systems untouched. Those being: the hierarchy of the collective over the individual and that coercion required of industrialism. In a commune, one's individual vote is negligible, since the outcome is only affected by one person's vote in very rare circumstances. Once the votes are tallied, the individual is expected to conform to the decisions of the majority, and to accept the commune's laws and customs. This leads to the individual becoming feeling helpless and weak.

Secondly, Marxism fails to address the coercion required to make an industrial society function. In order to have products, you must have a payroll of workers to stand where they are told to stand and do what they are told to do and go home and show up to work when they are told to do it. Instead of working towards goals that are immediate, which directly affect one's condition (such as building a house to live in), one must do a task or set of tasks that ultimately has little to do directly with one's own material well-being. Instead, the hyperspecialized work required in an industrial society is made livable indirectly via trade. This leads to a dependence on the industrial system as a whole, which requires a massive amount of cohesion to function.

Humans are no longer permitted to act autonomously since doing so would be a hindrance to the system. Behaviors which are not conducive to the system are disallowed, but all unimportant facets of our life which do not interfere with the functioning of the system are permitted to grow within said limits.

Lenin was elected as Chairman of the Council of People's Commissars by the Congress of Soviets a total of nine times before his death. His position was not one elected by the people directly, but rather he was elected by the congressional representatives of the soviets who were themselves elected by the people. You can argue that his position should have been directly elected if you want, but you cannot say he was unelected. Regardless, while the Chairman of the CPC was the head of government of the RSFSR, and later the Soviet Union, the CPC was not a one-person council and the council as a whole was subordinate to the Central Executive Committee, which was in turn subordinate to the Congress of Soviets. Lenin was not an autocrat or a dictator; he did not hold sole legal authority and the Soviet government had numerous checks and balances.

I see no reason to believe a vanguard party or a one-party state is undemocratic. The USSR was a dictatorship, but not a dictatorship of one person. It was a dictatorship of the proletariat, as the bourgeoisie were stripped of the right to vote and to be elected. You can object to this if you like, but I personally don't think that was a bad decision.

You seem to be arguing that Lenin was neither Marxist nor socialist because the nascent Soviet Union was not yet classless or stateless. Yet why should it have been expected to be? Communism is not something that can be achieved overnight, or even in one generation. In the meantime, there must be some mechanism for suppressing and overthrowing the bourgeoisie. No matter how democratic, how horizontal, and how people-oriented that mechanism is, it still constitutes a state insofar as it constitutes an organ for the oppression of one class by another. Unless you are arguing that the rights of the bourgeoisie should be maintained and protected, you cannot escape this fact.

At the point of achieving a stateless, classless communist society, I don't see why decision-making would necessarily be performed through simple majority vote. While it's rather pointless in my mind to be speculating about how a hypothetical communist society of the future might function, I think it's safe to say they'd be far more capable of exploring alternative forms of decision-making than we are now. In any case, the question of how a future communist society might function is entirely separate from questions of past and present systems of government.

You are right to point out that the industrial mode of production requires collective and specialized activity in order to function, but I fail to see what the alternative is. Humans are a social animal, our production has always been collective and we have always benefited from specialization in labor. The advancement in industry has made possible a reduction in socially necessary labor time, not an increase. It is capitalism and the profit motive that has mandated long hours and low autonomy in the workplace, not industry itself.

People are not inherently stupid or self-centered. They can understand very well the relationship between one sector of industry and another. You do not need to be building a house to understand how, for instance, the nails you are manufacturing will be used to build houses and other goods. You do not need to be manufacturing nails to understand how the iron you are mining will be used to make nails and other goods. The idea that it is alienating to be engaged in a task that is socially beneficial rather than merely individually beneficial is absurd.

You talk about social cohesion as if it is impossible or undesirable. But again, what is the alternative? An incoherent, fragmented society? No society at all, and people just fend for themselves as individuals? I fail to see how anything less than social cohesion is desirable.

You say that industrial society is coercive and prevents people from acting autonomously. I say, what does it mean to act autonomously? Humans must satisfy our basic needs before we can think about engaging in autonomous activity. If you are starving, you are compelled to seek food. If you are freezing, you are compelled to seek shelter. Individual freedom is subordinate to our material conditions, and only through improving our material conditions can we satisfy our basic needs and guarantee individual freedom.

If we are to have a society where the individual freedoms of everyone are maximized, then we must have a society which guarantees everyone their basic needs. Food, shelter, clothing, medicine, education, transportation, communication, etc. All of these must be secured before a person has full freedom to act autonomously. Improving the quality of these things and the efficiency of their production improves the standard of living and reduces socially necessary labor time, which allows for greater degrees of freedom.

You say behaviors which are not conducive to the system are disallowed. I do not necessarily disagree, but I feel you are intentionally obscuring the nature of such behaviors. What is “the system” here? The system is society. So a behavior not conducive to society is an anti-social behavior, a behavior that impedes or harms other members of society. Why should these behaviors be allowed? Is it maximizing autonomy and freedom to allow someone to steal or rape or murder with impunity? No, it is merely trading someone else's freedom and autonomy for your own.

You can certainly maximize your own freedom and autonomy at the expense of others, but if we are to live in a society where the freedom and autonomy of everyone is to be maximized, then there must be certain limits to individual behavior for the sake of others. Maybe someday humanity will evolve to a state where one can live in their own private world with maximum freedom to do as they please without worrying about impacting others, but until that day we will have to live in a society with other people and the social restrictions that come with that. Personally, I don't think it's such a burden to have to care about other people.

Society as it stands today is indeed imperfect and often oppressive. Socialist states in the past and present have yet to achieve the classlessness and statelessness that marks higher-stage socialism, i.e. communism. They too are imperfect and have restricted people's behavior in various ways, some I would argue are necessary, and some I would argue are unnecessary. However, I believe that socialism offers us the greatest opportunity to improve society as a whole and liberate humanity from oppressive structures. I believe that capitalism remains the central impediment to the advancement of society and the pursuit of human freedom. I believe that a vanguard party and a dictatorship of the proletariat have been the most effective means of combating the bourgeoisie so far. And I believe that the advancement of science and industry has been the most effective means of securing and improving the basic needs of the people as a whole.

My question to you remains: what is the alternative? You can criticize all you want, and thoughtful and rational critique of all things is both important and beneficial, but unless you have an alternative to socialist revolution and industrial society, then you're just throwing the baby out with the bathwater. How are we to combat the bourgeoisie without a vanguard or a state? How are we to provide people with their basic needs without industrial production?

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animasola86 · 2 days ago

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LOST & FOUND 🫂 CH6

Daddy takes you on a road trip, happy to have you as his passenger princess.

soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader

WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. Mommy/Daddy kink. Dd/Md/lg dynamics. Dom/sub undertones. Pet names. Road trip. Age gap. Size difference. Explicit language. Over-clothes-touching. Nature hike. Tooth-rottingly-sweet fluff. (More notes under the cut!)

WORDS: 6.4k 🔷️ READ ON AO3 🔷️ 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

A/N: Quick recap: Reader (we call her pumpkin), in her 20s, has hair and female genitalia, suffers from depression and anxiety, and has agreed to become the little girl/submissive to a couple she's supposed to call Mommy and Daddy, who are in their early/late thirties. In this chapter: Daddy POV incoming! We learn a bit more about him, including his name and age. Turns out: he is an original character, but he was inspired by all the men tagged in this post, I hope you can forgive me for still using those tags. His name is barely mentioned if it's not his POV, so he'll remain (the) Daddy (of your choice) of course. (READ THIS if you'd like a longer explanation!)

Chapter 5 🔷️ Chapter 6 🔷️ Chapter 7

You were settled on the bench seat of the truck, your shoulder leaning against the passenger door, your feet tucked under your butt, as you watched about curiously. The small backpack he'd given you, filled with extra clothes, water and some snacks, rested against your side.

His eyes were on the road, but he kept looking over, out of the corner of his eye or openly when he had to stop at a traffic light or before taking a turn. You looked calm, relaxed, the way those braids framed your pretty face made him smile softly. It had only been a few days, less than that even, but you already looked so different.

When he first saw you shuffling into the living room, nervous and shy and uncertain about everything, he'd hoped to break you out of your shell, make you smile and laugh and see the world in a different light again. He hadn't imagined you'd change so quickly. As if you'd been looking for someone to take care of you all your life, immediately jumping at the chance.

And how fast you'd opened up to him specifically, after just these short moments you'd had together, it warmed his heart. Whatever happened in the shower this morning hadn't been planned, but he was glad it had evolved like it did. It would make things much easier in the future. You might have hesitated a little at first, but he could see that you wanted to be close to him.

There was still a lot of shame inside you, probably stemming from a conservative upbringing or lack of proper communication with your parents or mother in particular (seeing that you never really had a proper father figure in your life), but you did better than he would have thought at first. In hindsight, he had pushed you a little too much as he remembered your distraught face and tears when being presented with the simple task of saying 'cock' and 'cunt' and asking to be touched.

But you pulled through, and he couldn't be more proud. You'd do just fine with all the things to come.

“Daddy?” Your voice rang in his ears, pulling him from his thoughts. The way you said that still tightened something low in his stomach, making his cock twitch.

“Yes, pumpkin?” he replied, throwing a short glance at you, his hand flexing on the steering wheel.

“Where exactly are we going?” you asked. You'd moved on the seat, sitting on your knees, slightly closer to the middle now, the seat belt pushing between your small breasts.

“To the mountains,” he answered, watching you frown before he had to look back at the road. “We'll take a little hike. I'd figured you'd like to get out of town for once, get some fresh air. You'll love it. It's one of my favorite trails.”

“Okay,” you whispered, sounding a little flat. “I hope I can keep up...”

He looked back at you, noticing how you chewed on your bottom lip as you stared out of the passenger window. Before he knew it, he'd reached his hand out and brushed his fingers against your thigh, smiling when you turned your head to him. Instead of maybe pushing him away or dodging the touch, you grabbed his hand and cradled it between yours, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze.

His smile widened when you blushed slightly, focusing your gaze on how much bigger his hand was in yours. “You'll be fine, baby,” he told you, and you nodded, continuing to play with his long fingers.

You must be so touch-starved, with how you soaked up the tiniest of skin-to-skin contact. He was glad about it, knowing there'd be so much more to come, but he also felt bad for taking advantage of you like that. Then again, you were the perfect little girl, the one he'd been looking for for quite some time. Already so submissive, timid but curious, cute and enticing. Just perfect.

It had been Isabella's idea (the woman you only knew as Mommy) to add a little something to their busy lifestyles, something to ground them both, to calm them when life got too much. He'd known his partner for more than a decade then. They'd met as business partners, working for different companies, started out as passionate lovers before they realized they weren't made for a conventional relationship.

Soon they merged lives, business and private, working as equals in the company he'd built up from the very bottom. She was a good partner, knew how to handle herself in a still mostly man-dominated world, mainly because she knew exactly how to dominate right back. She had a fiery temper that he admired both in the office and in his bed, and they soon slipped into a different lifestyle, sharing a passion for the rougher kinds of love-making.

And as much as it grounded him to explore the deepest kinks with her, something had been missing. They were both dominant people, clashing more often than not, which wasn't always a bad thing, but he knew it couldn't go on like that. With their unique relationship being as open as it was, Isabella had been experimenting with submissives long before him (as far as he knew she still had some on the side, juggling it all at once which was impressive), but somehow that only fueled their darker sides.

So one day, she came to him, nursing a strained wrist after some malfunctioning flogger exercise. “Papi,” she'd said, sitting down on the edge of his desk with a sigh. “Something's gotta change.”

He'd leaned back in his chair, watching her. He'd always been blown away by her natural beauty, her long black hair, those thick lashes, the perfectly structured face, full lips, deep eyes full of fire. He knew she didn't do much to maintain her looks, which was even more impressive. That day, she'd been glowing, an idea blossoming in her chest.

“What are you thinking about, babe?” he had asked, tilting his head.

“We should get a dog,” was the first thing she'd said, a tease in her velvety voice, a smirk on her lips. “Or we could adopt. A kid.”

He'd stared at her. “A kid? I thought you hated kids.”

“Well, I do, and you'll never catch me with a bun in the oven, no matter how hard you try to put one in there, mister,” she'd added, poking her pointy nail at his chest. He'd chuckled. “No, I mean...” She'd sighed, pursing her lips. “Listen, I will not be caught dead admitting this, but... I know you'll understand. I think you feel the same. Something's missing.”

“You think we'd have time to raise a kid?” he'd asked, frowning deeply. “We of all people?”

“No, not raise a kid. That'd be a terrible idea, wouldn't it?” She'd laughed her beautiful laugh. “No, stay kinky, chico, I mean we need a little girl, a fully developed human, of age, of course, but someone to take care of and pamper and cuddle on the couch after a long day in the office. Someone who will cherish us and devote her life to us, someone for both of us.”

“You want to be a Mommy, huh?” he'd mused.

“I wanna be called Mommy!” she'd clarified, slipping onto his lap, one arm around his neck as she drew circles over the buttons of his shirt. “And you, papito, were destined to be a Daddy too!”

“You think so?”

“Oh yes, old man, it's now or never,” she'd teased, smiling at him. “You won't get any younger, you know?”

He'd shot her a glare, grabbing her waist and tickling her until she hit his chest, breathless and flushed.

“You'd make a great Daddy,” she'd whispered, nuzzling her nose against his neck. “You were my papi first, but I am more than willing to share. You have so much love to give, let's find a girl who needs it. I'll look around first thing tomorrow, ask around.”

“What? Do you expect to find our little girl on the street?” he'd asked with a raised eyebrow.

In the end, after a long and fruitless search with many failed attempts, she did indeed find you right there on the street, lost and alone, left behind by a life that had gone by too fast. And it had been so easy to open his arms to you, to pull you onto his lap, welcome you into your new life. He smiled as he remembered how small you'd been, shoulders tight, curled into your shell, grabbed tightly by anxiety, but slowly you'd grown, stuck your head out, looked at him with so much hope.

Exhaling loudly, he noticed you were tugging on his hand. Blinking his eyes into focus, realizing he'd been driving mindlessly (luckily it was a straight road for miles), he turned his head to you, finding you smiling shyly at him.

“You okay, baby girl?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, but bit your lip. He squeezed your hand gently, knowing you were about to ask something, fighting with yourself to find the words. He gave you an encouraging smile, waiting patiently, his eyes flicking back to the road for a moment before he felt how you placed his large hand onto your belly, giving it a soft press.

He looked back at you. “Hungry?”

“Can we stop for breakfast or lunch?” you then asked, and he smiled wider.

“Of course we can, pumpkin.” He looked at his watch, realizing it was already noon. Their shower adventure had taken longer than he'd expected and he'd whisked you away right after, completely forgetting about feeding you. What a Daddy he was... He scanned the road signs flying by. “How about a gas station sandwich? Not much else around,” he mused.

“Sure,” you said quietly, still fondling his hand to your stomach.

“I had our chef pack some real food though, for later. But if you're really hungry, we can dig into that right here on the side of the road.”

“No, it's fine, a sandwich will do.” You paused, then whispered: “You packed food, like... for a picnic?”

He looked back at you, nodding. “And I have just the spot to do it too, you'll love it.”

Leaving the road at the next exit, he brought the truck to a stop at the side of a small building. The two gas pumps sat vacant, nobody was around. It looked empty, almost abandoned, but there was a blinking OPEN sign in the dirty window. He considered leaving you in the car, but then thought better and unbuckled your seat belt, motioning you to join him. You slipped back into your shoes and followed immediately.

He waited with his hand extended and you grabbed it quickly, comfortable, as if you'd known each other for a long time. It felt right to walk with you like that. You were so tiny next to him, his hand swallowing yours, and with your braids and those shorts, you looked younger than you were. And somehow, to his own surprise, he didn't have a problem with that.

He pushed the door open and pulled you in after him, the little bell ringing from above. The small store was as empty as the rest of the property, though he heard shuffling in the back. Looking around, he skipped the shelves filled with snacks and went straight to the counter where an array of baked goods sat inside a small glass box.

“BLT or PB&J?” he asked you as you followed his gaze towards the sandwiches.

“Tomato,” you whispered shyly, squeezing his hand.

He nodded, pulling you slightly into his side. A moment later, an older woman came from the back, smiling a toothless smile as she greeted her customers. He ordered two tomato sandwiches to go and a coffee for himself.

“We also have milkshakes,” the clerk chimed as she packaged the food items. “I think you'd love the strawberry one, my dear,” she added, looking at you with a fond glint in her eyes. “Surely your Dad wouldn't mind?”

He noticed the flinch jerking through your body as you lowered your eyes, staring at the counter, your cheeks heating up. It did sound a bit weird to be addressed as your father, and he knew you were bothered by it a lot more than he was, but it was what it was. He was older, taller, bigger, you looked particularly young today, it was an easy mistake to make for a stranger. He decided to address the issue later.

For now, he squeezed your hand, tilting his body towards you. “Do you want one, pumpkin?” he asked quietly.

You looked up at him, your eyelids fluttering as you bit your lip. “Yes,” you breathed, and he smiled, then nodded at the cashier.

When you left the gas station, your hands curled around the large cup, you already seemed to have brightened up again. He slipped onto the driver's seat, watching you climb onto the bench, immediately shifting towards him. He put the sandwiches on the dashboard and his coffee cup in his other hand before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. You melted into his embrace, smiling shyly as you started sucking on your milkshake.

“Listen, pumpkin,” he started, taking a sip of his coffee. “I'm afraid that may happen more often now. People mistaking you for my daughter. It's fine, isn't it? Nothing to be ashamed of or weirded out by. We know better, don't we?”

You looked at him from under your lashes, your lips puckered around the straw. He had to clench his jaw at the sight, knowing now was the worst possible moment to imagine those same lips wrapped around his cock, but he couldn't help himself or the twitch against the zipper of his jeans. Clearing his throat, he put the coffee into the cup holder and grabbed the sandwiches.

“I'll never force you to show any kind of affection in public, baby, okay?” he said, pulling the wrapped triangles out of the paper bag. “Unless you want to. I don't care what people think about me, but I don't want to embarrass or humiliate you. I want to be there for you, in whatever form you want. I –”

He stopped short when you had shifted on the bench seat, scooting closer on your knees, the milkshake in one hand while your other hand rested on his chest. Without saying anything, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, the taste of artificial strawberry overwhelming for a moment. He smiled against your lips, then gave you a peck back.

“Is it weird that I... liked it... that she thought I was your daughter?” you whispered quietly, your cheeks flushed. He put the sandwiches on his lap and cupped your face, shaking his head.

“Nothing weird about it, it flatters me,” he said quietly, rubbing his thumbs over the twitching corners of your lips.

“How old are you, Daddy?” you asked, watching him closely.

“38, pumpkin. Does that bother you?” he added, knowing he was fifteen years your senior. But even though it was the biggest age gap in a relationship for him too, he found himself not really minding it as much as he had thought. And neither did you, apparently.

“No,” you breathed, leaning closer again. “I think you look younger. You don't look like any of the men my mother dragged into our house...”

He raised an eyebrow, not wanting to imagine just how many step-fathers you had to live with and endure. “Thanks, baby girl,” he replied instead, brushing his nose against yours.

“So I don't mind if people think you're my... father, but... I...” you stammered, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. His thumb teased at it, pulling it back. The tip of your tongue slid against the pad of his finger. “I also want to... show affection in public... I mean, I want to hold your hand and... and kiss you... and not pretend that I am just your... daughter. Is that... okay?”

He smiled wider, nodding, tilting his head to press his lips to yours. “Of course, pumpkin. We can do whatever you feel comfortable with.”

“And at the same time, I... I'm not sure if I... if I want to call you... Daddy... when others can hear me... that does feel weird, a little bit,” you mused, your fingers curling around the hem of his shirt, teasing at his chest. “Maybe I could... call you... by your name? Do you have a name, Daddy?”

He laughed, both surprised and impressed by how you managed to word your wants and needs almost freely to him. “Of course I have a name, baby,” he said with a smirk.

You stared at him, waiting.

He stared back, amusement flushing his body.

“What's your name, Daddy?” you then asked, catching the unspoken command to ask him properly.

“Noah,” he said. “My name's Noah.”

You mouthed his name silently before you voiced it. “Noah,” you repeated. “And I can call you that when we're among people?”

“Yes, you can, pumpkin,” he replied, watching you closely. “If that makes you happy.”

You hummed, the sound vibrating against his lips.

“Do you want me to call you by your name too, or do you prefer the pet names I gave you?”

“I like it when you call me pumpkin,” you said quietly, inhaling deeply before you slipped from his hands and leaned your head against the backrest of the seat, snuggling into his shoulder. “Or baby or baby girl or anything else. I never really liked my name anyway...”

“But it's a beautiful name, baby,” he whispered, wrapping his arm around you to pull you even closer. “It is,” he stressed with a nod when you were about to roll your eyes, “but I respect your wishes, pumpkin.”

You smiled at him, warmth flooding your big eyes. “By the way, why pumpkin? Do I look like a pumpkin?” you then asked.

He chuckled. “No, I just think it sounds cute, as cute as you look,” he said, nuzzling his nose into your neck. You gave a soft giggle, accepting his answer.

You settled against him, bringing the milkshake back to your lips. He kept his arm around your shoulders, picking up the sandwiches with his free hand. Taking a bite of one, he then held it towards you. Instead of maybe grabbing the other one, you took his and bit off another piece, much smaller than his, and he watched you fondly as you chewed.

For a while the two of you ate in comfortable silence, still parked at the side of the gas station, leaning against the other. When he gave you the last bite of the second sandwich, he teased his fingers against your jaw.

“Hey, by the way, I am really proud of you, you know that?” he said nonchalantly, emptying the rest of his coffee.

You looked at him with a frown. “For finishing my food?”

He smirked. “That too, of course, but also for voicing what you want. I know it's not easy for you, but you did so well.”

You squirmed away, blushing deeply, but he knew you weren't ashamed, just humbled, probably. “Well, it's easier than to ask for... for something else...”

He nudged your arm. “I bet it is, but you'll get better at that too.”

“Hmm,” you made, licking around your lips, not daring to look at him. He leaned in instead, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your cheek that made you giggle, before he took the empty milkshake cup from your hand and gathered the rest of the trash.

When he opened his door, you looked at him, meeting his gaze. “Be right back,” he told you, adding Stay where you are in his mind, then left the car, disposing of the cups and paper bags in a nearby trashcan. The sun was high in the sky, a few clouds shifting in front of it. He had planned to take you to the mountains early in the day, but somehow you were a bigger distraction than he had thought.

He'd have to take a different route to get there quicker, hoping they'd still have enough daylight to make it to the vantage point he wanted to show you. It'll be fine, he told himself when he returned to the truck. You were still perched on the seat, right in the middle where he left you, watching him curiously when he slipped behind the wheel again.

“You wanna stay here, pumpkin?” he asked, and you nodded, snuggling against him, your legs tucked under your body, knees pressing into his leg, sock-clad feet wriggling beside you on the seat. He smiled, leaning in to fish the middle seat belt up to strap you in. “Safety first,” he mused, his face close to yours. You gave a sweet snicker, and he couldn't help but grab your chin and capture your lips for a short but deep kiss, tasting the remnants of milkshake and sandwich in your mouth.

He had to force himself away eventually, sighing deeply as he put his own seat belt on and started the engine that came to life with a loud roar. He had missed taking the truck out into nature (usually using one of his other cars or getting driven by Isabella's driver when he was in the city), but what he had missed even more was to have a little passenger princess beside him.

His hand slipped to your thigh once he was back on the road, heading straight ahead, and again, you cradled it between your fingers, the touch soft and sweet, if you wouldn't have pushed it closer and closer to the hem of your jean shorts, teasing it between your legs.

“Still hungry, baby girl?” he mused, eyes on the road.

“No, just... it feels nice... having your hand there...”

“Where, pumpkin?” he teased, feeling you squirm against him.

“On my... between my legs...”

“On your what?”

You sighed, but instead of ditching the want or fighting him, you shifted on the seat, spreading your legs a little. You didn't ask him for it, and he might have to teach you some manners in the future, but for now he let it slide when you pressed his fingers right onto your warm mound, his hand so big his thumb was resting on your leg.

“My cunt, Daddy,” you said quietly, closing your thighs around his hand. He gave your crotch a few nudges of his fingers, wishing the thick fabric of your shorts wasn't in the way so he could sink them directly into your slit, but he settled for feeling your warmth and the hint and promise of dampness beyond.

“Good girl,” he praised, meeting your hooded gaze. “Return the favor?” he then asked before looking back at the road.

You complied quickly, one hand still holding his between your legs, the other moving towards his leg, rubbing up his thigh, and he had to fight a little groan when you curled your small hand around the obvious bulge in his pants as if you'd never done anything else. He admired your confidence, but still adjusted your hand to rest comfortably along his cock, pressing his other leg up against the steering wheel for a moment to keep the car steady.

You gave him a gentle squeeze, and he threw you a smirk, rubbing his fingers against the seam of your shorts, and connected as you were, he drove on. A few hours passed before he pulled onto the empty parking lot. It was later than he would have liked, but it would be fine. You had fallen asleep against him, holding onto his cock, lulled by the occasional flick of his wrist.

He carefully peeled his hand away, feeling it tingling from the blood rushing back into his digits. For a moment, he let it rest on your warm thigh, watching you sleep so peacefully. Gone seemed the worried girl who couldn't stop crying as she told them about her failed attempt at life. Who choked on her words as she had to recount the events that led to her ending up on the street.

He knew that in your head, it was a lot worse, and it wasn't easy to begin with, falling into depression, dropping out of college, losing your place to live, unable to return to your family because you didn't have the money (and courage) to do so, but he had been certain that you would prevail.

There had been hope in your big wet eyes, a plea you couldn't word yet. And you pushed through by accepting his and Isabella's offer, probably still unsure what that all entailed, but you grew into your role (or what you thought it was) quickly, minute by minute climbing back out of the dark abyss that had swallowed you whole.

Helping you by simply being there, cuddling you, holding you, praising you, had been a new experience for him too. He'd had submissive partners before, but nobody had been like you, so soft and innocent and helpless in a way that triggered something inside him he hadn't known before. The need to protect, to guide, to pamper. Be a Daddy, a caring authority figure, a father figure even, and not just in sexual ways.

For the first time in his life, he would prefer holding you against him over sinking his cock into your tight cunt and fucking you senseless (he'd do that eventually too, but for now, because you were just getting adjusted, it was enough to simply feel you in his arms). A new chapter, for every party involved.

Inhaling deeply, your sweet scent filling his nostrils, he leaned against you, bringing his lips to your sleep-warm cheek. “Pumpkin,” he whispered softly. “Wake up, sweet girl.”

You startled awake, flinching badly, your hand gripping at his cock which in turn made him shift away with a wince and a stifled laugh. He grabbed your hand and eased it off him, then chuckled softly when you blinked your eyes into focus and stared at him.

“You're alright,” he whispered, cradling your hand in his, giving you a bit of space as you came to. “We're here.”

“Here?” you mouthed before your jaw opened for a big yawn that you didn't even bother to hide. Seeing his amused gaze, you cleared your throat and wiped a bit of drool off your chin, looking around.

“We might have to change our plans a little because we got here so late. Lucky for you, there's also a shorter trail to where we want to go,” he told you, watching you as you stretched, a little squeak escaping you that made his stomach tense. You were so fucking adorable.

“Okay, Daddy,” you whispered, slipping back into your shoes as you sat up straighter on the seat.

His resolve was really tested now. The urge to grab you and devour you, take you in the most primal ways possible, was thrumming low in his guts, his cock straining against his jeans. But he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Alright, let's get going before it gets dark, hm?” he then said and slipped out of the car, waiting for you to follow him. You grabbed the backpack from the bench while he took the larger one off the backseat, and together, hand in hand, the two of you started up the trail into the forest, slowly easing your way up the mountain.

He watched you as you admired the nature around you, giggling when a squirrel crossed the path, your mouth agape when you watched a woodpecker hacking away at a nearby tree trunk, your hand squeezing his before you showed him something in the distance. His heart nearly melted by how at ease you were, how easy-going and free, not a single black cloud circling your head at the moment.

He'd do anything to keep it that way.

The trail wound past a thick pine forest on one side and a steep slope dipping down into the thicket on the other, allowing a more or less clear view on the river snaking through the valley below. Most of it was already covered in shadows as the sun was slowly descending behind the mountains, but some areas were still sparkling, clear water rushing by, echoing up all the way to the trail.

You walked silently next to him, pressed to his side when the path got narrower, holding onto his hand and stretching your arm out when you had to climb over an obstacle, never letting go. Even after more than thirty minutes of walking, steadily ascending the mountain, you still looked around in awe, sometimes pausing to marvel at a certain view, showing him things he hadn't noticed before on the many treks he'd taken along this path.

You opened his eyes to new things, and he was grateful, enjoying his time with you more than he had initially thought. He had tried taking his subs here from time to time, but most of them, no matter how obedient, would start complaining and downright protesting after having to walk this much. It didn't matter to him as he did enjoy a good punishment, but it would have been a nice change to just enjoy nature together instead of thinking about ways to properly discipline the girls he had been with.

You, on the other hand, gave him time to let go, to empty his mind, to enjoy the bird song around him, the noises of the forest, the wind in the leaves, to feel the sun on his skin, the breeze in his hair. You were perfect to spend time with.

When the both of you eventually reached the spot he wanted to show you, the sun was just peeking past the top of the mountain, painting everything in a warm orange glow. “Almost there, pumpkin,” he told you, quickly taking you around a bend before you saw it: a little plateau jutting out of the forest, and on top of it sat a watch tower, the smaller kind, to watch animals.

He led you to the steep wooden ladder and helped you up, watching you climb on unsteady legs, the sight of your rear shifting left and right a welcome one. At the top, you crawled over the edge and disappeared, and he quickly followed. You were already standing against the banister, hands curled around the top, looking left and right with your lips parted and your eyes wide. He stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, leaning his chin on top of your head.

“This is beautiful, Daddy,” you whispered, and he followed your gaze, letting his eyes wander over the valley below, the river twinkling in the last rays of the sun, the mountains dark and imposing behind it, endless rows of trees filling the slopes. He lowered his head and turned it, pressing his lips to your warm cheek.

“You are beautiful,” he said quietly, making you squirm and giggle. “You are. My perfect little girl...”

You looked at him, meeting his gaze, then meeting his lips, the kiss slow and gentle, your hands finding his forearms as you leaned into him. He inhaled you, holding you closer, feeling your soft breaths and little twitches. The vantage point and its pretty view was forgotten as he pulled you onto the little bench on the side of the structure, settling you on his lap.

Your hands on his shoulders, his hands on your face, lips sliding and pressing, tongues gliding and delving deep. The noises around you faded as the sun set behind the mountain, plunging the world into darkness, a gentle glow left on the horizon. He focused on kissing you, tasting you, until you were both breathless, leaning into each other, his large hands rubbing over your bare arms, caressing the goosebumps away.

“Are you cold?” he whispered.

You pressed into him. “A little,” you murmured barely audible.

He pulled the backpack closer that he'd barely had time to put down before his desires had taken over. Without letting go of you, he extended a hand and rummaged through it before pulling out a thick blanket. He'd planned to put it down on the meadow next to the tower, enjoying a nice picnic with you, but with the light gone, that wouldn't happen. So he threw it around your shoulders instead, wrapping you up completely.

You snuggled into him, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. “Thank you, Daddy,” you breathed softly. “For this and for taking me here... it was really special.”

“You're welcome, sweetheart,” he replied, pulling you even tighter against him as he looked over your head and past the balustrade into the approaching night. “But it's not over yet.”

“What do you mean?” you whispered, sounding rather sleepy.

“When I knew we'd come here so late, I remembered that there is a little cabin nearby. We didn't bring any necessities, but I think we can skip your night routine for once, hm, pumpkin?”

You tilted your head back to look at him, a frown on your forehead. “We're spending the night here?”

“Mommy will be furious, but it can't be helped. I'm not taking you through the forest at night,” he explained, shifting on the hard bench. “It's only a few yards down the hill, and luckily I did think to bring a flashlight.”

Your lips twitched as you watched him. “Sounds good, Daddy,” you mused, your hands digging into the fabric of his shirt. “As long as you're with me, I feel safe.”

“You do?” he whispered, a little surprised by your words.

“Yes,” you breathed, scooting closer to nestle your face into the crook of his neck. “And you're warm and strong and I know you would never hurt me.”

“Of course not, pumpkin!” He blinked, rubbing your back, furrowing his eyebrows at the way you worded that. “I'll always protect you.”

You hummed against him. It really was unusual how quickly you started to trust him. But it just showed him how dire your need for a caregiver was, for someone to hold you, to give you attention, to be there. It might have been only about forty-eight hours since you left the streets to come live with him and Isabella, but it felt like so much longer already. He inhaled deeply, burying his nose in your hair.

“Oh pumpkin,” he breathed, closing his eyes. “My sweet little pumpkin...”

He heard your soft giggle as you squirmed on his lap, your arms wrapping around his neck as you inched closer to him, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. It was getting darker and darker, but he would always be able to see the hopeful innocence shining in your eyes.

“Are you okay, Daddy?” you whispered, your breath fanning over his lips.

“Never better, sweet girl,” he replied, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You just make me really happy, you know? I'm old, let me be sentimental.”

You chuckled quietly. “You're not old, Daddy,” you said softly, your fingers brushing up his neck into his hair, sending pleasant shivers down his spine. “You're well-seasoned, experienced, knowledgeable...” He watched you as you listed those traits, the warmth radiating off your cheeks.

Nosing at your temple, he smirked at you. “Well-seasoned, huh? I think you are indeed still hungry...” he said, grabbing your waist under the blanket to dig his fingers into your sides until you writhed on his lap, gasping for air after a full-blown laughing fit shook you.

“Daddy!” you squeaked, your hands heavy on his shoulders.

He let go of you, only to wrap his arms around your back and pull you flush against him, his mouth inches away from yours. “Would you like another taste of Daddy, pumpkin?” he whispered, licking his lips, feeling his cock stir to life beneath you.

He heard your sharp inhale, felt your burning skin, but he also saw the jerky nod you issued before you buried your face in his neck, clinging to his shoulders, a little shudder crashing through your small body.

“Let's get to that cabin then, hm?” he whispered, standing up slowly, the bundle of limbs and hair and blanket tight in his arms. He put you to your feet, digging through the backpack to fish the flashlight out. Switching it on, he placed it into your hands, considering putting the blanket back, but deciding against it. The night was chilly, and you were only wearing that cute kitten shirt (and it was too dark to appreciate your stiff nipples beneath).

After shouldering his backpack, he told you to stay put as he climbed down the ladder first, then waved at you to follow him.

They were quickly losing light, the last glow vanishing behind the mountains. The flashlight didn't do much, but it was enough to illuminate the path to the cabin. When he reached it, his hand tight around yours, he realized he might have exaggerated things a bit. The cabin was more of a shed, the only window was a little glass pane in the door, but at least it had a roof and four walls, which was hopefully enough protection against any nighttime critters or bigger animals.

He ushered you inside and closed the door. “Well, this is home sweet home for the night I guess,” he said, looking around as you shone the flashlight from wall to wall. It was one of those hiker huts, just a place to stay, one wall lined with two very primitive looking beds, just raised wooden slabs, really, but it had to do. “Sorry, pumpkin. I promise I'll make it up to you.”

Instead of saying anything or showing disdain about your situation, you stepped forward and snaked your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his chest.

“It's perfect, Daddy,” you whispered. “And I'm sure you will...”

Chapter 5 🔷️ Chapter 6 🔷️ Chapter 7

End notes: So Mommy and Daddy have names, how about that. It just fit the story, what can I say. You can still imagine them however you like, though. There will be a few more Mommy/Daddy POV chapters in the future, just to switch things up.

Thank you for reading! New chapter every Saturday!

Up next: After spending the night in the woods, you find that Mommy isn't too happy with Daddy for disrupting her plans with you...

MASTERLIST 🔷️ AO3 🔷️ ORIGINAL WORKS

#x reader #bisexual #reader insert #daddy x reader #daddy k!nk #size difference #x reader smut #original fiction #joel miller x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #pedro pascal x reader #dean winchester x reader #arthur morgan x reader #billy butcher x reader #soldier boy x reader #geralt of rivia x reader

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nowimjustastranger · 1 day ago

Text

Order is from Oldest to Newest

Lee & Ford Centric:

There Are Better Days Ahead

Lee knew that it was a bad day before he even opened his eyes. He felt like he was experiencing the world through a haze of numbness, his senses dull. Even opening his eyes to add sight to the mix didn’t help the veil lift, so he found himself staring up at the ceiling blankly. It took him a few moments to register that he didn’t feel present in his own body, his eyelids drooping with exhaustion that no amount of sleep could ever fix.

Time Heals All Wounds

Lee had drained the mug of hot chocolate without even thinking about the unpleasant aftertaste, but he had written it off as Ford’s ability to make even the simplest of recipes taste questionable at best and downright toxic at worst. And all things considered, the hot chocolate ranked super low on the gross scale, it was just a little bitter. It wasn’t until daybreak that Lee started to feel… not so great. He was smoking a cigar on the front porch when his gums began to ache, Lee forced to take out his partial dentures to relieve the pressure. It was a fleeting respite from the throbbing pain, which only seemed to worsen. Then, something came loose, Lee’s stomach dropping as he raised a hand to spit a tooth into his waiting palm.

[Kofi] As The World Caves In

Lee doesn't dare peek into the room, pressed against the wall beside the doorway. He's not sure what compelled him to stay out of sight, but he heeds his instincts all the same. He's never questioned a gut feeling before and he wasn't about to start now. His caution was ultimately rewarded when he heard a shuddering exhale a moment before a crackling voice rang out. "Hey Sixer... been a while, huh?" A voice greeted and Lee's heart froze in his chest because he recognized that voice. His voice. Rough with exhaustion and saturated in thinly-veiled despair. "Just my fuckin' luck that the one time I decide to actually say somethin', you don't answer."

I Can Lose Everything But You | Part 1

“That uh… that looks bad, pal.” Stan said haltingly, glancing between the bloodied cloth pressed to Lee’s face and the road in an anxious fashion, his equally bloody hands white-knuckle tight on the steering wheel. Stan had gotten covered in the stuff when he’d tackled the thug with the knife, the two grappling for the blade. As soon as the knife was in Stan’s hand, he buried it into the thug’s chest with an efficient brutality that had the four other men sluggishly picking themselves up off the ground and bolting. Probably to regroup. Stan yanked the knife out and rushed to Lee, setting the blade aside before he knelt down to look him over, helping him to his feet so they could stumble to the Stanleymobile.

Don't Hide Away

“Ugh… shit. Ow.” Lee hissed, slowly easing his shirt up to get a look at the nasty bruising practically on top of his poor kidney. Damn, it was the kidney that he’d grown back too. The scuffle that resulted in said bruising had been short but vicious, Lee taking a bony elbow to the side two or three times before the would-be kidnapper succumbed to lack of oxygen –courtesy of Lee’s chokehold– and passed out.

[Kofi] I Can Lose Everything But You | Part 2

Lee’s mouth was moving but Ford couldn’t hear what was being said over the roar of blood in his ears, his wide-eyed stare fixated on the patches of gauze that were taped to the right side of Lee’s face. The gauze needed to be changed, partially dried blood –as well as a trickle of fresh blood– spotting the otherwise white material. He was hurt. Someone had hurt his little brother.

Side Quests Centric:

When A Hand Reaches Out [No MCD]

Ford saw Stan almost immediately, his stomach swooping in a nauseating fashion as the golden glow illuminated the alarmingly large red puddle around Stan’s left arm. He lunged forward with a wounded sound, scrabbling toward the boy in an entirely undignified manner, his black pants soaking up the still warm blood when he kneeled beside Stan. Ford checked his pulse the old fashioned way, the sensors in his gloves easily picking up the boy’s slightly weakened heartbeat.

Life is Filled With Choices | Part 1

As he was trudging through the snow back to his car, Stan couldn't help but hear Ford's words play on an endless loop in his head, drowning out everything else. Stan had wanted so badly to shove the journal back at Ford after his brother had branded him, but he couldn't. Ford was right, he was always right. So he kept the fucking diary and stormed out.

Beware the Man You Think You Know

Ford is currently perched in one of the large trees surrounding the shack, hidden in the branches with a direct line of sight to both entrances. There's been nothing, no activity around the shack within a fifty foot radius. Which is another thing, Ford hasn't spotted so much as a gnome rooting through the trash in the three days he's been watching. It's... something's not right but he can't put a finger on what.

Gasping For Air [No MCD]

He wasn't going to make it.

Ford had stupidly tripped the moment his shoes hit sand and he'd fallen, wasting precious seconds scrambling back to his feet. He didn't have time to take off his coat or shoes so he didn't run the risk of drowning, the water weighing him down and making him slower as he charged into it.

To Die In Your Arms [Temporary MCD]

Ford hadn’t made it in time to do more than damage control, squeezing the trigger before he could even process what he was seeing. His ears still rang with Stan’s shouting, demanding that his brother run even as the bear sunk its teeth into Stan’s arm, the bite force fracturing the bone. The cry that escaped through Stan’s grit teeth had Ford firing three more shots with precision into the neck of the beast, his counterpart shooting in tandem.

[Kofi] Stranger Danger

“You alright, kiddo?” A voice asked and Stan’s eyes snapped open as he startled, staring up at the stranger who had stopped right in front of him with wide eyes. It was an older guy, though not as old as Pa. He had a concerned expression plastered onto his face, but Stan shuffled back a step or two even if he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly he didn’t like about the man. “I’m fine.” Stan huffed, feeling the sudden and overpowering need to hide the sign behind his back when the man’s eyes flicked down to it. There was… something in the stranger’s keen eyes that had Stan’s insides squirming unpleasantly, some shift that Stan couldn’t pinpoint even if you held a bag of toffee peanuts over his head and told him to put it into words.

#gravity falls #masterlist #fic list #somebody to call my own au #stcmo au #lore #side quest #ford pines #stan pines #lee pines #stan and ford #lee and ford #stan twins #writing #kofi writing

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thecurioustale · 3 days ago

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This matches my own observations online. A lot of the anti-Israel propaganda I see on here (and on Reddit) is reshared sincerely by ordinary people who are being radicalized without realizing it, and all you have to do is go up a few user accounts in the thread and you'll start to find hardcore communist and pro–Islamic terrorism accounts. This stuff doesn't propagate organically; it needs to be seeded; because most people rightly reject these sick ideologies.

Read the linked report; it's interesting, and adds some flesh to evidence that coming from me is mainly anecdotal.

The strange alliance between communist-aligned, anti-Western westerners and terrorist Islamic jihadism is one that I have written about in the past, though not so much here on Tumblr, but the long story short is that these two highly disparate groups share a common enemy: a prosperous, liberal West. And Jew hate and anti-Israel propaganda is a major vector for them to operate. Islamic terrorists hate Israel more than just about anything else in the Universe because they are suicidally hellbent on murdering Jews, and communists hate Israel because it is a free democratic state and a major partner in the Western liberal democratic defense mosaic. Both of these players like to portray Israel either as a puppet of US "imperialism" or as the puppeteer of the same (whichever framing suits them better in the moment). So, whenever Israel gets embroiled in a conflict, they'll ramp up the propaganda along this vector. That's why there was such a huge, out-of-the-gate burst of anti-Semitism and Israel hate on October 7 and 8, in the hours after Hamas committed it massacre, before Israel's military counterstrike had even begun.

I can't stress it enough that this is not new, that these exact same forces were at work 25 years ago in my college day, before the Internet and our present digital interconnectedness had become an ingrained fact of day-to-day life for most people. The Second Intifada was raging at the time, with Palestinian terrorists (and outside Islamic terrorists filtering through the Palestinian territories) regularly committing attacks of opportunity against Israeli civilians while benefitting from a strong fifth column defense here in the West via anti-Israel propaganda mischaracterizing the nature and details of the conflict as well as straight-up lying. This is when I first became aware of it, but it's actually decades older even than that.

In addition to the takeover of social media discussed in this report, it is also happening within leftist political advocacy organizations. That's how, for example, a group like the Democratic Socialists of America went from being a pro-Israel socialist organization that fostered close ties with their Israeli socialist counterparts, to being a virulently anti-Israeli hate machine that kicked out AOC for not being anti-Semitic enough. This is why you have probably seen a lot of anti-Israel rhetoric in leftist activist circles, even though individual leftists generally don't believe in anti-Semitism and aren't especially interest in the topic of Israel.

I have personal reasons for wanting people to understand the legitimacy of Israeli self-defense more accurately, but I also have "professional" reasons as a fellow leftist: It is hard to overstate how effective Jew-hate is for communists and Islamists as a means of turning the West against itself and fomenting radicalism and conflict. This stuff is incredibly dangerous to the fabric of a free society, and is a straight-up ideological dead end for the left.

UPDATE: I've reproduced the linked article under the cut due to a soft paywall that I wasn't aware about.

Pirate Wires The Terrorist Propaganda to Reddit Pipeline

how an ultra-leftist network hijacked some of the biggest non-political subreddits to censor its ideological enemies — and distribute terrorist propaganda

Ashley Rindsberg Feb 19, 2025

The r/Palestine network coordinates across Reddit, Discord, X, Instagram, Quora, and Wikipedia, manipulating search engines and AI models like ChatGPT to spread its messaging — a practice known as “data poisoning”

The network systematically launders propaganda from US-designated terrorist organizations, including Hamas, Hezbollah, and Palestinian Islamic Jihad

Key subreddits infiltrated by the network include r/Documentaries (20m members), r/PublicFreakout (4.7m), and r/therewasanattempt (7.2m), misleading millions into believing its content is organic

Through coordinated vote brigading, subreddit moderation, and content manipulation, the network influences public perception while evading platform moderation and legal consequences

Reddit’s trust and safety team has been repeatedly warned about the network’s activities but has failed to act, allowing terror-linked propaganda to proliferate

It’s by now a truism that digital propaganda will play a central role in wars of the 21st century. What’s less understood is the extent to which this is already happening. Amid the din about TikTok’s ties to Beijing, little attention is paid to terror groups funded by Iran and Qatar that are linked to extraordinarily effective propaganda networks that span every major social media and information platform.

Since October 7, an online network has emerged that directs content sourced from US-designated Islamist terror organizations — including Hamas, Hezbollah, Palestinian Islamic Jihad, and the Houthi movement — across Reddit, Discord, X, TikTok, Instagram, Quora and Wikipedia. The network works with an awareness that its manipulation eventually flows downstream and gets baked into universal platforms like Google search and ChatGPT.

The central locus of the network is a 270,000-member subreddit called r/Palestine. A Discord server with the same name functions as command-and-control for the r/Palestine network, and is promoted prominently on the subreddit. On the Discord — whose new members must undergo an ideological purity test consisting of questions about their views on Israel, Zionism and October 7 — a “Reddit task force” channel coordinates posting to Reddit, identifying “comments sections that need more pro Palestinian commentary,” mass upvoting of anti-Israel posts, and downvoting of pro-Israel posts (a practice known as “vote brigading”). The Discord has separate task forces for Quora, TikTok, Instagram, X, and Wikipedia.

CAPTION: r/Palestine Discord list of task forces

On Reddit, the network consists of no fewer than 110 subreddits controlled by around 30 core moderators who are part of the network. Its central subreddits — including r/Palestine, r/IsraelCrimes, and r/ApartheidIsrael — are topically relevant and built around overlapping ideologies that include anti-Zionism, anti-capitalism, radical Marxism, Islamism, and anti-Western and pro-Iranian-regime sentiment. Other core subreddits in the network include r/Panarab, r/fight_disinformation, r/Global_News_Hub and r/suppressed_news.

But it’s with a cluster of million-member-strong subreddits infiltrated and now controlled by the network that have nothing to do with the Mideast — or even politics generally — that the r/Palestine network is particularly effective, and which illustrates an extraordinary degree of unambiguous astroturfing meant to convince unsuspecting users that there’s a widespread anti-Israel, anti-Western, Marxist movement online. These include, but aren’t limited to: r/Documentaries (20 million members), r/therewasanattempt (7.2 million), r/PublicFreakout (4.7 million), r/Fauxmoi (4.3 million), and r/iamatotalpieceofshit (2.1 million).

The network leverages command-and-control mechanisms, radicalizing messaging and decentralized tactics by exploiting the openness and freedom afforded by these platforms, as well as vulnerabilities in the platforms’ trust and safety operation, which have largely been outsourced to the user-base itself (rather than trained moderators).

But they also use Reddit and Wikipedia’s unique status in relation to search engines and LLMs to spread the propaganda orders of magnitude further.

Data poisoning: LLMs and search

Last year, Reddit and Google signed a $60 million content licensing deal giving Google access to Reddit’s API for LLM training and search purposes. OpenAI announced a similar partnership last May. (Google has a similar agreement with Wikipedia.) But Reddit’s significance goes much further than this, particularly for OpenAI, which disclosed in a white paper on GPT-3 that WebText 2 — its dataset of scraped Internet content used to train the model — consists of web pages that have been linked to by Reddit posts with three or more upvotes (“karma”). Just as importantly, OpenAI then used WebText 2 as a template for judging the quality of content scraped from the open Internet. Essentially, Reddit became OpenAI’s filter for quality content. (ChatGPT now crawls the open web, introducing more opportunities for this kind of data poisoning.)

A similar phenomenon is at work on search engines, namely Google, which frequently ranks Reddit posts as the first results on topic searches — something the r/Palestine network has reverse engineered to its benefit. For example, if you Google “hostages collage” (in reference to a grid of photos of Israeli hostages held by Hamas), a top result — when we viewed them, it was placed above a page from the Hostages and Missing Families forum where users can download the collage — is a r/Palestine post: “Has anyone noticed the duplicate images in the hostages collage shown by Israel at the ICJ?” Google prominently features misinformation from other platforms, too. Information from Wikipedia can be found at the top of billions of searches per year, despite its articles being heavily poisoned by bad actors. And YouTube frequently uses Wikipedia as the ground truth for “topical context” it provides for “videos related to topics prone to misinformation,” despite the ability for those articles to be manipulated and affect users in real time.

This on its own is highly problematic, though could be reasonably dismissed as an unintended consequence of legitimate free expression and the benign mechanics of LLM training and search algorithms. What changes the equation, however, is that, at its core, the network is dedicated to covertly spreading propaganda distributed by US-designated terror groups. And this is exactly what the r/Palestine network often does: it sources the content it puts on Reddit (and then vote brigades) from propaganda aggregators like Resistance News Network (RNN).

How Resistance News Network launders terrorist propaganda Screenshots I obtained seem to indicate that RNN pulls content from a color-coded list of Telegram channels run by US-designated foreign terror organizations headquartered across the Middle East. Many of these channels aren’t available in the US due to restrictions on terror-related content, so RNN’s translation and re-posting of the content represents an effective — if illegal — workaround of US terror law.

While not the sole distributor of content produced by foreign terror groups, RNN is the main one. It aggregates and distributes content from US-designated groups in Israel-Palestine, including Hamas, the group that launched the October 7 attacks, during which its militants deliberately killed children, and for which Human Rights Watch accused it of war crimes; Palestinian Islamic Jihad, which participated in the October 7 attacks alongside Hamas and is known for its indiscriminate rocket fire targeting civilian areas in Israel; Martyr Abu Mustafa Brigades, the armed wing of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP), which also participated in the October 7 attacks; and many more. In Iraq, RNN pulls from around a dozen channels, including Kataeb Hezbollah, which has engaged in a sustained campaign of rocket and drone attacks against US bases and assets in the region, and Scream of Al-Quds Brigades, which is part of the Islamic Resistance in Iraq. In Yemen, RNN aggregates at least six channels of major terror groups, including the Houthis.

CAPTION: RNN's list of channels from which it aggregates content

In one example of its content aggregation, RNN published an English translation of a battlefield message from Hamas’ Al-Qassam Brigades (the military wing of Hamas; it played a leading role on October 7) which read, “Our fighters…in the West Bank are engaged in fierce clashes with enemy soldiers using automatic weapons near the city’s Main Street.” In another instance, RNN translated and published a post by Al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades, which participated in the October 7 attacks and is designated as a terror organization by the US, EU, Canada, Japan, New Zealand, and Israel due to its involvement in suicide bombings, shootings, and rocket attacks targeting Israeli civilians: “We are engaged in fierce clashes with the zionist enemy forces storming the city, with machine guns.”

RNN has a particularly tight relationship with Samidoun, which the US government classifies as a terror entity, with the Treasury Department calling it a “sham charity that serves as an international fundraiser for the PFLP” (Khaled Barakat, a PFLP senior leader, co-founded Samidoun in 2011). After RNN’s Telegram was banned in the EU last August, Samidoun was instrumental in helping them reconstitute, publishing statements on behalf of RNN and directing users to the group’s mirror channel. Samidoun’s efforts to revive RNN after the ban reveal the extent to which it is connected to — and perhaps reliant on — RNN.

The terrorist propaganda to Reddit pipeline

On Reddit, terror group propaganda aggregated by RNN is able to tunnel under the walled gardens of Telegram and into the groundwater of public debate. In one case, a user in r/israelexposed (68,000 members), a subreddit controlled by the r/Palestine network, posted a quote about the alleged detention of a Palestinian boy under the title “Israeli soldiers abduct and beat children.” The post was a direct quote from RNN, which was cited as the source. The same text and video were also posted in r/IsraelCrimes (54,000 members), also controlled by the network. While the content of the clip can be interpreted in different ways, the post is one of many examples of how the r/Palestine network funnels content from RNN onto Reddit.

In the r/TrueAnon subreddit (60,000 members), also controlled by the group, a user posted a screen grab of a message from the head of the Houthis posted in the group’s Telegram channel: “I call on America to send more MQ9 drones, as Yemeni air defenses enjoy grilling them.” The same account previously posted a “Guide to Palestine Resistance groups posted by RNN,” which featured a screen grab of an explainer on Hamas’ Al-Qassam brigades, which led the October 7 atrocities, broken down into sections: “Who are they?”, “Notable figures,” “Where are they most active” and their “Arsenal.” The last line of the post, taken directly from RNN, reads, “Together, we are united until liberation.”

CAPTION: Houthi messaging on Reddit

The activity coordinated by the network is not restricted to posting content online. In fact, the network frequently promotes demonstrations and rallies organized by US-designated terror groups on Reddit. In December, after Samidoun was designated a terror entity, an account tied to the network posted an image from a rally organized by Samidoun in Brazil with the title “Free Palestine!” and the caption “Today in São Paulo BR.” A post like this would normally be an unambiguous example of free expression if it weren’t for the fact that Samidoun is a front organization for the PFLP designed to fundraise from a Western audience. In another example, one of the network’s highly influential moderators, u/Sabbah, directly sources Samidoun content about a demonstration it organized in New York City in a r/Palestine post.

The promotion of content from foreign terror organizations on Reddit, including by top moderators, raises serious legal concerns. U.S. “material support” laws prohibit aiding terror entities, including spreading propaganda, training guides, or recruitment tools — forms of speech not protected by the First Amendment. (Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act also does not shield platforms from criminal liability in such cases.)

This poses a major risk for Reddit. Despite this, sources with direct knowledge told me Reddit’s trust and safety executives have repeatedly failed to address the issue adequately, even though they’re aware of it. These sources told me that dozens of attempts to alert the company about the pipeline were systematically ignored and sidelined. On one occasion, I was told, Reddit senior trust and safety team members — including the VP of Data Science and Safety — openly laughed at issues they raised.

How the network operates

The backbone of the r/Palestine network is a group of moderators who control dozens of overlapping subreddits, with r/Palestine as the central hub. These users co-moderate the core group of ideological subreddits, like r/IsraelCrimes, r/palestinenews, and r/ApartheidIsrael, where the content is dedicated to intensive and sustained anti-Israel messaging.

The moderator network is key, since Reddit mods hold sweeping authority over their communities, with the ability to remove posts, ban users, dictate discussion rules, and control visibility through pinned posts and automated filters. They can shape narratives by approving or suppressing content, restricting participation with account age and karma requirements, and even preemptively censoring topics using Automoderator.

Much of the network’s influence lies in popular subreddits that, nominally, have nothing to do with Israel. For example, u/Sabbah, the highly influential member of the network mentioned previously, moderates topically relevant subreddits like r/Palestine, r/IsraelCrimes, r/Palestinians, r/palestinenews, r/ApartheidIsrael, and r/Panarab. However, Sabbah also moderates r/Documentaries, r/therewasanattempt, r/PublicFreakout, r/IRLEasterEggs, r/ToiletPaperUSA, r/Thatsactuallyverycool and r/boringdystopia — a cluster of unrelated, large subreddits that have been captured by the network.

The network includes moderators like BlueberryBubblyBuzz (who also operates another account in the network called Kumquat_conniption), ohhyouknow, PlenitudeOpulence, Falafel1998, makoccino, and dozens of others, many of whom also moderate the r/Palestine Discord server. Clustering together as mods gives the group effective control over some of the biggest subreddits on the site. As of the time of this writing:

On r/therewasanattempt (7.2 million members), Sabbah, Kumpquat_conniption, ohhyouknow, BlueberryBubblyBuzz, PlenitudeOpulence, and usernameoverloaded are some of the most active human (i.e. non-bot) moderators.

r/PublicFreakout (4.7 million members) is moderated by Sabbah, --intifada--, PlenitudeOpulence, ohhyouknow, Kumquat_conniption, and BlueberryBubblyBuzz. The former two have what amounts to admin privileges (their permission level is “everything”).

On r/MorbidReality (1.1 million members), Sabbah, Kumquat_conniption, BlueberryBubblyBuzz, PlenitudeOpulence, and ohhyouknow make up the majority of the subreddit’s human moderators.

r/ToiletPaperUSA (440,000 members) is moderated by Sabbah, Kumquat_conniption, and BlueberryBubblyBuzz, all of whom have ‘admin’-level moderation privileges.

r/Thatsactuallyverycool (277,000 members) is moderated by Sabbah, Kumpquat_conniption, BlueBerryBubblyBuzz, Falafel1998, and PlenitudeOpulence, all of whom have ‘admin’-level moderation privileges

On r/ENLIGHTENEDCENTRISM (184,000 members), Sabbah, Kumquat_conniption, BlueberryBubblyBuzz, PlenitudeOpulence, and Falafel1998, are moderators, all of whose permission level is “everything.”

r/boringdystopia (94,000 members) is moderated by Sabbah, Kumquat_conniption, BlueberryBubblyBuzz, makoccino, Falafel1988, ohhyouknow, all of whom have ‘admin’-level moderation privileges.

r/therewasanattempt, a subreddit originally meant for funny ‘fail’ content, and which has over 7 million members, features as its main banner an archery target in the colors of the Palestinian flag with the words “Free Palestine” ringed around it and Israel in the bull’s eye. (The subreddit’s icon is this same target with the Israel bull’s eye.) The main banner previously featured the phrase “From the River to the sea, Palestine will be Free.” The subreddit’s sidebar recommends network-controlled r/Palestine, r/PublicFreakout, r/boringdystopia, and several more.

CAPTION: A previous version of the main image of r/therewasanattempt — a subreddit for funny 'fail' content

The sheer volume of posts in r/therewasanattempt obscures a steady tempo of anti-Israel content. For example, a recent post’s caption was “[there was an attempt] to support Palestine” featuring a video of the protestor who rushed the field with a Palestinian flag during the last Super Bowl halftime show captioned, “Fearless Protester Charges Field Waving Palestinian Flag During Super Bowl Half-Time Show.” Two days before, there was a post featuring the caption, “[there was an attempt] To appear as the world’s most powerfull [sic] country” showing an image of Trump pulling out a chair for Netanyahu. One day prior came a post with the caption “[there was an attempt] To argue that opposing ethnic cleansing makes you antisemitic.”

The extent to which other network-controlled subreddits are so obviously astroturfed would be hilarious if moderators weren’t using them to distribute propaganda made by terrorists. A mod announcement titled “We’re a pro-Palestine, leftist subreddit!” is pinned to the top of r/ToiletPaperUSA; every other post on r/PublicFreakout is protest footage; the pinned post on r/boringdystopia is a list of ways to donate to Palestine (which includes a link to r/Palestine’s fundraising page), and its recommended subreddits include r/Palestine, r/IsraelCrimes, and other network-controlled subreddits.

One of the biggest non-relevant subreddits controlled by the network — and one that, at 20 million members, is among the most popular subreddits on the site — is r/Documentaries. Co-moderated by Sabbah, Kumquat_conniption, BlueberryBubblyBuzz, Falafel1998, ohhyouknow, PlenitudeOpulence and another member of the network, PalRep, the subreddit is dominated by the r/Palestine network, its members constituting eight out of the subreddit’s 14 non-bot moderators.

A glance at r/Documentaries content shows what you’d suppose: links to documentaries, mainly on YouTube. Woven into these videos, however, is a steady through-line of anti-Israel or pro-Palestine propaganda on a cycle that separates them by mere days — in some cases, no more than a single day. No other topic or theme on r/Documentaries receives this persistent and intensive focus.

Examples include films like: “The Palestinian,” which features Yasser Arafat asserting that the only solution to the Israel-Palestine conflict is the “liquidation” of Israel; “This is Gaza,” which spotlights Palestinian suffering in the Strip; “How Ethnic Cleansing Created Israel”; “Holy Redemption: Stealing Palestinian Land”; “Breaking from Zionism: Jewish Voices for Justice”; “Germany’s blind support for Israel” (caption: “shedding light on one of the main actors behind this genocide”) and “How The Wars On Gaza Create Massive Profits.”

Given the prominence of Israel/Gaza in the news, you might think the content on r/Documentaries is organic. But this is not the case. Sabbah — one of the primary moderators of r/Palestine subreddit, Discord server and multiple nodes in the network — brigades upvotes for posts featuring anti-Israel videos to ensure these posts end up positioned prominently.

CAPTION: Vote brigading r/Documentaries content in the r/Palestine Discord

And that the six subreddits recommended by r/Documentaries are exclusively controlled by the network also suggests blatant astroturfing, and effectively makes r/Documentaries the top of a multi-step funnel that sends users into ever more topical network subreddits, each of which contains successively more terrorist-sourced propaganda.

r/Documentaries recommends the slightly smaller r/therewasanattempt → r/therewasanattempt recommends r/BoringDystopia (and r/Palestine) → r/BoringDystopia recommends both r/Palestine and r/palestinenews, and so on

Generally, the pattern plays out across all the network’s subreddits: subreddits with massive membership funnel users to — and supercharge the growth of — a stepladder of ever more extreme subreddits, always leading back to one of the group’s core subreddits like r/Palestine, r/IsraelCrimes, and others.

Sabbah — and other key moderators who belong to the r/Palestine propaganda network — was the first member of the network to join r/Documentaries, in the weeks after October 7 in his case. Ohhyouknow, Kumquat_conniption, and PlenitudeOpulence joined four days later. The other r/Palestine network members joined in the subsequent weeks and months. The only moderators of r/Documentaries who are not members of the r/Palestine network joined between 2015 and 2016.

Despite having nearly a decade less seniority in r/Documentaries than the previously existing moderators, Sabbah was made the subreddit’s top mod (the first listed in the moderator side panel). This gives him a raft of powers, including the ability to remove every other moderator from the subreddit.

This network extends far beyond Reddit. Key members serve as ligatures connecting the network’s activities on Reddit, X, Discord and Quora.

Among these users is Zei_Squirrel, a radical, Hamas-aligned account on X (272,000 followers), Discord, Reddit and Instagram. Zei_Squirrel — whom I previously identified as being crucial to Wikipedia manipulation efforts based out of a Discord server called Tech For Palestine — moderates r/NewsandPolitics (a subreddit in the r/Palestine network), and is also approved to create Community Notes on X. Zei_Squirrel is active on the r/Palestine Discord server, where they coordinate other members of the network to manipulate Community Notes by having them rate potential notes as “Helpful” or “Unhelpful.”

CAPTION: r/Palestine Discord group astroturfing Community Notes

The r/Palestine network oversees similar activity on Quora. There, an r/Palestine operative, a Quora power user called Handala whose content has around 7 million views, posts answers to questions like, “What is the Palestinian history that you think every Palestinian needs to realise?”

Handala — who, according to a Quora AMA organized by r/Palestine, has created around 1,300 articles that have reached 58 million people on Quora, X, and Reddit — includes a link in his bio to the “Palestine Community on X,” which is organized and operated by the r/Palestine network.

The network boosts his profile and activities on Reddit with promotional posts, in addition to fundraising for him. Seeing him as a valuable asset, r/Palestine provides back-office-type support, for example, transferring Handala’s Quora articles to Reddit and the Palestine Community on X. The group also uses the r/Palestine Discord to coordinate upvoting of Handala’s articles on Quora, and, in at least one instance, claimed to have mass copy-pasted Handala’s articles to Wikipedia, to ensure further reach.

The r/Palestine network is not only succeeding but growing rapidly. The pipeline it operates carrying propaganda from terror organizations into the open sea of the Internet suggests that very little about the network is organic. That, rather, is part of the illusion of a groundswell of popular sentiment that just happens to think and speak about this issue in a given way.

Good propaganda has varying objectives and standards. In some cases, it’s to sow just enough doubt to create a wedge. In other cases, the aim is to cajole or convince, or intimidate opposition into silence. What’s unique to r/Palestine is that it’s likely the first major propaganda effort that brings to bear the full range of digital platforms and capabilities, from messaging apps like Telegram to the forum modality of Reddit, the group discussion of Discord, and amplification of ancillary networks like X and Quora.

The truth is that the network is doing what propaganda is designed to do — influence masses of people without them knowing. Its success in camouflaging the network is evidenced by the fact that Reddit continues to deny this is an issue. But that only makes it more effective, giving it a freedom to maneuver that propagandists of yesteryear could have only dreamt of.

While there may be some top-down control somewhere much further up the food chain, the network successfully merges deliberate control with an ability to commandeer existing networks. It’s a symbiotic approach that hijacks the democratic dynamics embedded in spaces where speech and expression are open and free — all performed in service of radical ideologies that seek nothing more than totalitarian control of how we think and what we think about.

— Ashley Rindsberg

Editor’s note: A Reddit spokesperson responded to our request for comment after publication —

We take these concerns extremely seriously. We have not identified widespread terrorist content on Reddit, and will continue to investigate coordinated manipulation that violates our policies. Terrorist content in any form has no place on our platform and we have strong internal processes in place to identify and take this content down. We are a free speech platform, and it’s imperative that communities are safe and healthy spaces for conversations.

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Will Baxter a day ago Kudos Ashley, incredible journalism as per usual from you. Insidious digital terrorism on display. Most disconcerting of all, as you point out, all best in class LLMs are deeply trained on and often rely on Reddit data for retrieval augmented generation. The training can't be rolled back …

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PsuedonymousJoe a day ago Even in the year 2025, it feels strange and new to read competent journalism on internet topics. Though I'm not surprised I'm reading it in Pirate Wires. Ashley has been knocking these stories out of the park.

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BadSnoopy 3 hours ago This helps connect soo many dots that I began to notice with both Google search engines utilizing Reddit and moderators on their site. Amazing work shown in this article!!

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Jacob a day ago Wow I noticed this in December 2023. r/Documentaries was posting near daily anti-Israel propaganda videos. When I commented something calling it out, I was immediately banned from that subreddit along with r/Palestine and r/Therewasanattempt… two subs I’d never even visited.

This is next level journalism. Incredible work.

Like Reply Continue Reading

How Wikipedia’s Pro-Hamas Editors Hijacked the Israel-Palestine NarrativeOct 24 a powerful group of editors is hijacking wikipedia, pushing pro-palestinian propaganda, erasing key facts about hamas, and reshaping the narrative around israel with alarming influence

Ashley Rindsberg

Wikipedia’s “Supreme Court” Enforces Sweeping Ban on Pro-Hamas Edit GangJan 27 an october pirate wires investigation that uncovered the group has led to one of the most significant crackdowns by wikipedia’s arbitration committee in years

Ashley Rindsberg

How Wikipedia Launders Regime PropagandaAug 29 wikipedia editors churn news articles from an overwhelmingly left-leaning list of “reliable sources” into neutrality-emblazoned fact

(Reproduced here under fair use.)

You know the saying about a stopped clock and all that? Ashley Rindsberg has an article that does just that for Pirateswire.

For the uninitiated, there has been a concerted effort across various social media platforms to disseminate and normalize terrorist propaganda and rhetoric. This comes from a core group of people who are moderators for multiple subreddits that are seemingly unrelated to Israel and Palestine but have all suddenly become very (((anti-Zionist))). These moderators all stem from one called r/Palestine and have a Discord server where they coordinate brigades, misinformation campaigns, and attacks across different platforms and subreddits.

This is what their Discord looks like.

You can clearly see they have actual "taskforces" for spreading their rhetoric across various sites and platforms. The irony here is that they often accuse anyone who speaks out against them of being a "paid Israeli propagandist spreading Hasbara", but here we clearly see they're organized to spread their own misinformation.

Here is a photo of their call to brigade some posts.

What is important to note is that they're getting a lot of their information from Resistance News Network (RNN). RNN is something I have talked about before when I covered Dropout's Palestine channel in their Discord server and how people were pushing it as a source of information. RNN is a telegram channel that collects and aggregates information and content from recognized terrorist groups and spreads it. This is not done in a neutral "this is what they're saying" but in a "we support this" manner. Here is a list of the channels they aggregate from:

RNN has repeatedly and clearly made its stance clear that it sees violent terrorism as a justifiable means of "resistance", even when that "resistance" targets civilians and is laced with violent bigoted rhetoric that these supposed Leftists object to. In fact, RNN is actually associated with known terrorist fronts like Samidoun and is clearly misleading Leftists in its narrative that it supports "resistance" and whatever that means to Westerners.

It doesn't.

It supports violent extremist ideology that results in terrorism. Not resistance or revolution. But I've talked about how many of these terrorist groups are purposefully misleading naive Westerners and have been for decades. I've talked about how this has been the game plan for years and we have actual confirmation of this from a meeting that took place in Philadelphia due to FBI wiretaps.

I would not be surprised if we found that members of this misinformation network, as Rindsberg calls it, are active on here Tumblr as well. Considering the number of accounts that justify the actions of these terrorist groups and their rhetoric, pretend to be Jewish and justify violent antisemitism, and spread misinformation...well it seems more than likely. They're across multiple platforms, and if they're on the likes of Quora then they're definitely here as well.

So when jumblr calls out specific accounts for not actually being Jewish and spreading antisemitic rhetoric and terrorist propaganda then you should stop and consider that there is actual precedent for this. It's actively happening and you, the goy, who are calling Jews "Nazis" are actively falling for it.

#Leftist antisemitism #Anti-Semitism #Communism #Islamism #Islamic terrorism #Jumblr

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 11 hours ago

Note

Hi!

If you have the time or even wanna wrote this, perfectly fine if not, but I was just wondering if you could write something with SKOM James having a bad day with Lars and coming home to reader just to have her in their bedroom, just her naked and laying between his legs while he fingers her for hours, not letting her cum and just complaining about his day till he finally either uses his dick or his fingers and a vibrator to get her off and praises her for being good.

Warnings: Smut, fingering (f receiving), use of toys, praise kink, edging, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

James had been having a rough time with the band and the documentary, he didn't want to do it anymore and Lars was just hitting every nerve.

You called him right before he left the studio/house they rented out. He didn't say much but that he was more than annoyed. His body ached and he wanted to scream. You nodded along until he sighed, said he loved you, and hung up.

You chewed your cheek, knowing you had to do something to make him feel better but not having the right idea. Eventually you landed on sex, sex always helped.

James got home later and called out for you, for the kids, to no response. He started getting worried but figure it was late so everyone was probably asleep. He hoped.

He made his way up to your shared room and found you leaning back against the headboard of the bed, staring at the TV across from you. You were naked, completely bare and exposed for his eyes and his eyes only.

James smiled darkly as he made his way over to you. "What were you thinking?" He asked as he got on the bed next to you, the mattress dipping under his weight.

He threw an arm around your waist and pulled you to his side, his other hand going to your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze while he began trailing kisses down your neck and shoulder. "Nothing much, really." You said honestly. "I figured you'd want to get rid of some stress, or something." You explained, leaning into his touch. "Didn't think you'd take six years to get back here."

James chuckled and shook my head, kissing back up your neck and to your jaw. "I'm so sorry about that, sweetheart, you know, if you'd have told me this is what I was coming back to I would've come home sooner." You rolled your eyes at him. "Is the offer still up?" He asked, nipping at your earlobe.

You thought for a moment before looking to him. "What did you have in mind?" James thought before giving a shrug and pulling you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your middle. He reached for the remote and turned your movie off.

"Just want to complain." He grumbled. "Need someone to listen to me... you're always so good at that." You reached behind you and laced your fingers through his shortened hair. You missed when it was long but he looked just as good with it short, you just couldn't pull on it anymore.

"I can listen, Jamie." You assured, leaning into him, back pressed against his chest.

"Thank you, lovely." He purred next to your ear, a hand trailing down your stomach. "Kids are sleeping?" He asked as he slid a finger through your folds.

You gave a small hum and shook your head. "I mean, I hope you, dropped them off at my parents place." You said. "Needed a day to myself, and you needed some time." James nodded in understanding, starting his kisses again.

"I appreciate that." After getting sober James had made it quite routine to tell you something like that every day and he'd been lacking recently. It didn't bother you too much because you knew how much stress he was under and he wasn't being rude to you, but hearing it made you smile.

He went off, talking quiet since his voice was hoarse from recording all day. It was a low, rumbly noise in his chest, hitting your ears like honey, slow, heavy and sweet. You did your best to listen but his fingers were just toying with your clit, lazily circling it, two fingers running on either side of it.

He was in no way trying to make you cum and boy did he succeed in that. At first it was just getting you ready again after waiting for so long, then he would repeat the same motion for a few minutes, getting you so close to the edge before he'd switch what he was doing, all while he rambled on.

"Jamie, please..." You squeaked, tugging on his arm. You hadn't meant to interrupt him but you needed to cum so bad, it had been too long.

James looked down at you. "Oh, huh..." He muttered, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. "Was I boring you?" He asked.

You shook your head, his fingers still twiddling your puffy clit. "No, I-I wanna listen, just- please, need to cum so bad..." You whined.

A grin spread over his face and he nipped at your neck. "How many times?" He asked. Of course he'd been doing it on purpose, edging you all this time. You tried to quickly count in your head but your mind was fuzzy and you kept messing up. "Rough estimate." He said.

"Ten?" You said finally. James was quiet for a moment, making you nervous.

"Eleven, actually." He said, nevertheless he reached over to the nightstand and pulled out the drawer. "But you were close enough." You let out the breath you'd been holding when he pulled out your little pink vibrator.

"Just that?" You asked, looking back at him.

He nodded and looked over the toy for a moment before bringing it down to your cunt. "Yeah... I'm tired, this'll still feel good, right?" He asked, looking to you for confirmation.

"Was just hoping for your cock." You mumbled, gasping softly when he pushed the toy into you, your cunt eagerly sucking it in lovingly.

James let out a low chuckle and hit the button on the toy, a gentle whirring stirring inside you. "Sorry, maybe tomorrow... be a nice little alarm?" He offered, continuing his ministrations on your clit again, this time with more determination.

You gave a weak nod. "I-I can do that." James tsked and started kissing your neck again, nipping and sucking at more sensitive spots.

"You don't have to do anything, you've been perfect." He purred. "Always there for me, listening to my bullshit, taking care of our kids while I'm off yelling at Lars." His praise went straight to your core, building to your high. "You're so beautiful and you just stay here all day, locked away when you should be out there, under my arm where everyone can see how amazing you are."

"Jamie, m'so close~" You moaned, body melting into him. He didn't change a thing, going the exact same speed, doing just what he knew you loved.

"Gonna finish this album for my pretty girl and then I'll take you with me on tour... take you to all your favourite places as a reward for loving me through everything." Your legs slowly closed around his hand, he smiled against you, knowing you were cumming. "That's it, just like that... god, you're perfect..." He mumbled, watching your eyes roll back as you clawed at the sheets beneath you. "Love you so much..."

His arms stayed wrapped around you, holding you close when you came down from your high. Usually James was great with aftercare but he was tired, as were you, so he just went to the bathroom and wet a cloth, being careful when wiping you down.

He gave you his shirt and curled up behind you, mumbling sweet things until he was sure you were asleep, even then he didn't stop, talking himself to sleep not long after.

#metalica #metallica #metal #metallica smut #metallica imagines #metallica rp #metallica fanfiction #metallica x reader #james hetfield smut #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield fanfiction #james hetfield #james hetfield fluff #james hetfield x you

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pbandjelly · 2 days ago

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Need somewhere to put these, have my (simplified) slugcat designs Monk has karma flowers on their tail but for some reason I made the background pale yellow so they're really hard to see

Survivor - She/they, very rabbit-like in nature and appearance, with thin ears and eyes Monk - They/he, just a little guy. Karma flowers start growing out of their tail at some point during his journey, when nature decides to give him some extra luck because idk they're nice. Monk is also a bit chubby and has short, round ears, inheriting both traits from Gourm. Gourmand - She/he/they, cool parent to everyone in the colony. He wears a batnip on his ear for extra ✨style✨

The messengers!

Spearmaster - They/it, Suns didn't leave them in the bio-engineering oven for long enough so they're smaller than average. Spearm can benefit from this though, being able to curve around predators easily and get into small crevices. They have spikes on their back to look less desirable to predators (though this doesn't always go so well), and its legs are a different shape, better for running. Also they have Suns' cheek markings instead of their forehead mark as a more subtle "LOOK THIS SCUG WAS CREATED BY SEVEN RED SUNS!!1!1" Rivulet - They/them, slightly taller than average, and equipped with a tail fin to be a bit more realistic. Said tail fin is kinda supposed to be rhombus shaped, hmm I wonder why? They also have a triangle on their face like Spearm because MMMMM parallels. Hunter - She/they, stocky with sharp fingers (paws?) and constant eyebags. Their green eyes slowly darken as their cycles diminish. I decided to put a rhombus between their eyes as a subtle hint to their creator.

Also these first 8 scugs all have a darker spot on their tail tips, which was only partially intentional

The ones with karma troubles

Artificer - They/she/it, the spiky things all over her are not actually fur, I have no idea what those are, I like to call it defying the laws of physics. She has large, boxy ears, scar "gloves" and blue eyes. Its eyes and nose are originally white, but they turn blue after Arti meets Five Pebbles. He accidentally left a mark on them lol Saint - They/she, I decided not to depict them as evil, they're just... sad. A very fragile slugcat. The dark spot on their tail tip is supposed to be a parallel-to-Arti thing, but you probably can't tell since it's on all my scugs now. Also their forehead markings actually aren't more eyes, wow!!!

Dark blue duo

Inv - Any pronouns because they have no concept of gender, very tired and paranoid due to the hell that is their campaign. They actually do have fur on their ears and cheeks! Also frill things on their tail because it looks cute, and they are the only scug with a visible mouth Nightcat - They/it, very blobby and lacking a visible nose. The end of their tail curls up, supposed to resemble a crescent moon. It also has eyeliner because it seems like the type of scug to have eyeliner. Watcher - Following the theory that Watcher is/was part of the OE colony, this is what Nightcat turns into after being separated from the colony. Exposure to the wilderness kinda destroys them. They turn into a pitch-black, strange being, covered in eyes that watch from all angles.

I'm not sure if this is an AU or just a bunch of headcanons piled together but yuh

#rain world #slugcat #rw survivor #rw monk #rw gourmand #rw spearmaster #rw rivulet #rw hunter #rw saint #rw artificer #rw inv #rw watcher #is that all the character tags?#anyway wings of fire designs next #rw spoilers #scoptophobia warning

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ditzydoe444 · 1 hour ago

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Knight Jason x Princess Reader when he helps her sneak away from the castle to get away from the pressure and they end up near a creek or deep in the woods or something and he fucks her against a tree while still keeping her from getting dirty or hurting her (please)

MDNI 18+

knight! jason x princess! reader

—ㅤ꒰ྀིㅤ jason todd x reader ಿৎ

a/n: i loved this request sm i had to do it the moment i saw it!! though im not too sure if i did it justice sorry anon :((

──────────•~❉✿❉~•──────────

“should we even be doing this?” you asked as you turned your head to look back on the palace, jason’s large calloused hands holding yours as he took you to the forests. “you said you needed a distraction and i have one,” his voice firm as he guides you two deeper into the woods.

you’ve never left the palace before, being heavily sheltered as a princess meant that the only place you could even stay was your own bedroom, maybe the garden on a good day.

“you’ll love it here, they have flowers that the palace’s gardens don’t even have.”

you would’ve been afraid, hell you should’ve been, but with him you didn’t.

“i like to go here during my breaks, helps clear my mind,” he speaks softly, his soft gaze on you as he scans your emotions.

the forest was really beautiful, thick tall trees that covered the two of you, unique flowers everywhere and the sound of nature moving around was so different to the palace, you felt free.

“i want to clear my mind too,” your voice barely audible as you held his hand tightly, the two of you standing face to face as your back was against the tree trunk.

jason chuckled, “well i can help you with that,” his tone soft as he gently brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “though, i don’t think it’s something a princess like you would want.”

well fuck that. you had enough of being pushed around, trained to be a prim proper princess you were meant to be.

you wanted to live.

“please,” your eyes wide and pleading, “show me.”

and he did.

his lips meets yours in a matter of seconds, at first it was a soft gentle kiss, as it continues his grip on your waist tightened, his movements more passionate. your mind was all hazy, this was something you’ve never experienced before, and you were pretty damn sure you would never until now.

jason was a real man, he was a knight that fought in war, protected people. the snobby noble men and princes that your father had set you to with didn’t compete.

“need to get this dress out of the way,” he grumbled, his voice huskier now as he fumbled with your dress, ripping it.

“jason! it’ll be obvious now.”

a grin formed on his face, “great, now everyone can see who fucks you.” as he threw the pieces of fabric away, your long dress now short, allowing him to lift you up in his arms, seeing your panties.

“aren’t you suppose to where some royal garment?” he teased as he eyes the small damp spot on your thin cotton fabric. you blushed, it was true, royals were meant to wear some absurd garments, but who was going to notice? well, clearly jason.

“didn’t like them,” you mumbled as you avoided eye contact, jason chuckled, “well i like these better,” his gaze stuck on your panties as they outlined your pussy.

“good thing i didn’t need them anymore,” in a matter of seconds he pushed your panties to the side, his strong arm holding you up whilst the other traced your slick cunt.

“gonna let me fuck you against the tree princess?”

you hesitated, your whole life you were told to be modest and yet fucking out in the woods was probably the least modest thing you’ve ever thought about.

“yes.”

and god, did he fuck.

his strong arms wrapped around your waist as your tits spilled out of your dress, bouncing you on his cock with little to no effort. “so pretty princess,” he grunted as he felt your gummy walls clench around him, your arms wrapped around his neck as you moaned. “‘m gonna make sure you don’t get all dirty from the woods yeah? just let me take care of you please,” he pleaded as he kissed your neck, all he wanted to do was to look after you and cherish you.

“m-mm,” you moaned as he hit a sensitive spot, your cunt gushing around his thick cock as you barely took him in. “princess you’re making a mess, ‘m gonna help you clean up yeah?” he whispered as he held you in his arms, bouncing you in his cock like his own personal toy.

as rough as jason’s thrusts were, sharp and powerful he was gentle enough to wipe any dirt from the trunk off you, making sure to keep your skin unblemished. “if i knew you were going to feel so damn good i’ll keep fucking you in that bedroom of yours, keep you and your pussy all to myself.”

he kissed your shoulders gently, making sure you were getting the princess treatment you deserved whilst getting fucked like a slut. god your father would be furious to see his only daughter, a princess to be exact getting fucked by a knight, someone out of her status.

“i’ll keep you entertained in that room of yours yeah? teach you all the positions, and how to make you come on your face, cock and fingers.”

“tree trunk not hurting you right princess?” his tone soft as he scanned your back for any redness or irritation, thankfully, he found none. you didn’t respond, your eyes glassy with tears as your head laid on his shoulders, your body limp as he fucked tou hard, making you drool on him.

jason couldn’t help but to have his chest filled with pride seeing you be such a mess, “guess i tainted you, no longer the prim and proper princess you were raised to be.”

#jason todd #ch: jason #addie rambles ᡣ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶𐭩 ♡#jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #dc smut #jason todd x y/n #dc jason todd #dc jason todd smut #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd dc

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fafnir19 · 16 hours ago

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Rise of the Phoenix

The university's sauna was a sanctuary for Logan, a place to escape the relentless grind of his studies. He was a scrawny blond freshman, his pale skin and slender frame a stark contrast to the muscular athletes that dominated the campus. But Logan possessed a different kind of power—a brilliant mind that could dissect complex theories and solve problems that left others scratching their heads. Yet, his intelligence was a double-edged sword, isolating him from his peers who often seemed shallow and uninteresting. On this particular afternoon, Logan sought the familiar solace of the sauna, his books and notes temporarily abandoned. His blue eyes scanned the room, taking in the dimly lit sauna, the wooden benches, and the bucket of water with a ladle for pouring. The silence was soothing, allowing him to indulge in his thoughts without interruption. The hiss of the water on the hot stones and the occasional crackle of the wooden benches were soothing companions. The tranquility was interrupted by the arrival of a new presence. Logan lifted his head, his blue eyes adjusting to the dim light, and took in the sight of a young man with the build of a Greek statue. Short black hair, slick with sweat, framed a face that boasted a strong jawline. This newcomer, Trevor, was the polar opposite of Logan—a jock, no doubt, and probably not the brightest bulb on the tree.

Trevor's presence filled the small sauna, making it feel suddenly smaller. "Hey," he grunted, his deep voice echoing off the wooden walls. Logan nodded, unsure how to respond to this stranger. He wasn't used to socializing, especially not with someone like Trevor. Trevor, sensing the tension in the air, offered a nod and a friendly, " Mind if I join you?" His voice, though slightly hoarse, had a certain warmth to it. "Didn't expect to see anyone else in here." Logan, caught off guard by the unexpected company, mumbled a quiet "Sure," his voice almost lost in the hiss of the steam. He shifted on the bench, making room for Trevor, who sat down with a satisfied grunt. Then Trevor spoke again, his voice carrying a hint of desperation to fill the quiet. "So, uh, you a freshman too?" Logan's blue eyes were dull and without any interest in the conversation. "Yeah. Logan." "Trevor." The silence that followed was thick, heavy with the sound of their breathing and the occasional drip of condensation.

Trevor, sensing the awkwardness, attempted to make small talk, but his attempts fell flat. Logan, lost in his thoughts, offered little more than monosyllabic responses. Finally, Trevor hit upon a topic that sparked Logan's interest. "You know, it's not easy being a freshman. Everyone's trying to find their place." Logan's curiosity grew. He found himself wanting to engage in this unexpected conversation. "I know what you mean. It's like everyone's already formed their cliques, and we're left on the sidelines." "Heard about the Phoenix Order, man?" Trevor exclaimed, his voice echoing off the wooden walls. "They're looking for new pledges." At the mention of the Phoenix Order, Logan's eyes narrowed. "Those pretentious jerks? They're like the epitome of arrogance, always strutting around like they own the place. Who'd want to join them?" His voice carried a hint of disdain, a rare emotion showing on his usually stoic face. Trevor chuckled, a deep sound that filled the sauna. "Right? I mean, who do they think they are? Just because they've got the looks and the grades, they act like they're better than everyone else." Logan's tone turned bitter. " Yeah, especially that Aiden, with his silver-tongued charm and those skimpy satin shorts, always showing off his body. As if we don't get it, he's a Greek god."

Trevor chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. "Oh, him, thinks he's God's gift. I can't stand those types. Always got something to prove. But you know who I can't stand the most? Rhet. That guy acts like his intellect is some kind of divine gift. Makes me feel like a dumb jock, which I'm not, by the way. Just because I don't have my nose in a book 24/7 doesn't mean I'm stupid." Logan couldn't help but smile, his pale face softening. "Oh, Rhet. Aiden's little lapdog. Always following him around, nodding like a mindless puppet. I can't stand his know-it-all-attitude, like he's some kind of intellectual, but he's just a snob." Trevor's laughter filled the room, "Hah! I know, right?" ." Logan's joined in to Trevor’s laughter, a sound rarely heard from the reserved freshman, "Yeah, Aiden's got this peacock-like strut, always flaunting his chest and..." He blushed, realizing he was describing Aiden's prominent manhood. "Yeah, they're all style and no substance," Trevor agreed, his voice rising with confidence. "I mean, who do they think they are?" The sauna seemed to get hotter as their conversation grew more animated. Trevor's muscular frame glistened with sweat, and he wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "I mean, who would even want to join that frat?" Logan asked, his voice incredulous. "They're so full of themselves." "Yeah, it's like they're compensating for something," Trevor said, his laughter filling the small space. "Maybe they're not as confident as they seem." As they laughed, a strange camaraderie formed between them, two unlikely allies united in their disdain for the Phoenix Order. Their conversation flowed, a surprising ease settling between them. They gossiped, laughed, and revealed more about themselves than they intended. The sauna, a place of relaxation, had become a confessional of sorts, where two young men found common ground in their insecurities and shared disdain.

As their laughter subsided, a sudden realization hit them. The heat in the sauna had become unbearable. Logan stood up, wiping his palms on his towel. "Wow, it's hot. I think we should take a break." Trevor nodded, his face flushed. "Yeah, let's get out of here." They moved towards the door, but as Logan reached for the handle, his heart sank. "It's locked!" Panic filled Trevor's eyes. "What? No way!" They tried again, pulling and pushing with all their might, but the door remained stubbornly shut. The heat intensified, becoming oppressive. Logan's breath came in short gasps, his skin prickling with heat. "We've got to get out! It's too hot!" Logan's voice rose in desperation. "I'm trying, man, I'm trying!" Trevor banged on the door, his screams turning into moans as the heat scorched their skin. "Let us out! Oh God, it burns!" But it was too late. The sauna had become their inferno, flames licking at the wooden walls, the heat searing their lungs with every desperate breath. They screamed, their voices blending into a chorus of terror— "Help!" "Let us out!" "No, please!" But there was no escape. The fire consumed them, their bodies burning until they crumbled into ash, leaving two small piles on the sauna floor.

Hours later, Logan's and Trevor’s remains were discovered by two members of the Phoenix Order, their eyes gleaming with a sinister light at the scene before them. One knelt down to the ashes, his eyes narrowing in satisfaction. "Perfect. Just what we need." The other, tall and lean, with a condescending smirk, joined him. "Indeed. A fresh start for our little experiment." They collected the ashes, mixing them together in a small pouch.

In the cool evening air, the Phoenix Order gathered in their fraternity house, their laughter and voices echoing through the halls. Aiden, his silver-grey satin shorts and velvet jacket shimmering in the dim light, held a small pouch in his hands. He smiled, his white teeth flashing in the darkness. "Tonight, brothers, we initiate two new pledges. This pouch of ashes will fuel our ritual, ensuring our dominance on campus." The other frat brothers cheered, their voices filled with anticipation.

Aiden stepped into a circle of glowing runes, the ash from the pouch forming a small pile in the center. He began to chant, his voice deep and hypnotic. "Oh, ancient powers, hear our call. Bless these ashes, transform them all. From humble remains, let rise anew, loyal brothers, devoted to you." The room fell silent, save for the sound of Aiden's rhythmic chant. His hand moved to his crotch, stroking the bulge in his shorts as he continued the ritual. The fabric strained against his erection, and with a smooth motion, Aiden freed his cock, the satin shorts sliding down his thighs. "Oh, the power grows, the ritual shows. As I spill my seed, let the ashes heed." Aiden's chant was punctuated by the sound of his hand pumping his shaft, the slap of skin on skin filling the room. His eyes closed in ecstasy as he climaxed, his warm cum shooting onto the ash, igniting an explosion of flames. In that instant, a pillar of flame erupted, a fiery tornado spinning wildly.

From the heart of the fire, a figure emerged, its body taking shape amidst the dancing flames. It was Logan, but not as he had been before. His physique had changed, now boasting lean, toned muscles that rippled beneath smooth skin. He stood taller, his posture exuding a newfound confidence. As the flames licked at his body, Logan's eyes flickered open, revealing a changed consciousness. "Ah, you're awake," Aiden's voice cut through the haze, his tone laced with satisfaction. "What... what happened?" Logan's voice was hoarse, his throat dry from the heat. "You're reborn, my friend," Aiden replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "And you look damn good."

Logan's attention was immediately drawn to Aiden, and he felt a strange sensation. Aiden's signature style, the satin shorts and velvet jacket, which he had once found pretentious, now held an undeniable allure. The fabric's sheen seemed to beckon him, and Logan couldn't tear his eyes away. As if in response to his thoughts, the flames caressed his body, weaving a pair of satin shorts around his slender hips. The fabric was like a lover's touch, sending shivers of pleasure through him. His cock began to stir, growing harder by the second, and the shorts showcased his lengthening shaft. "Oh, you like that, don't you?" Aiden's voice was a low purr. Logan could only nod and a smirk played on his lips while the satin stimulated his glans. "Ah, the allure of satin," he moaned, his voice dripping with newfound arrogance. "I understand now, Aiden." The velvet blazer settled around his shoulders and the flames receded, leaving him standing as a new man.

"Logan," Aiden's voice cut through the haze of the ritual, "do you want to pledge for our fraternity, the Order of the Phoenix?" Logan's mind, once a bastion of intellect, now buzzed with a different kind of power. He felt a connection to Aiden, a bond he couldn't explain. "Yes," he heard himself say, the word echoing in his mind. "I pledge myself to the Order." As the words left his mouth, his thoughts shifted, aligning with Aiden's. The old Logan, with his insecurities and intelligence, faded into the background. He was now a creature of confidence and vanity, a reflection of Aiden's own persona. Aiden's hand rested on his shoulder, a possessive gesture. "Welcome to the frat, little bro. You're one of us now." Logan's grin mirrored Aiden's, a picture of devotion and admiration. He turned his head and noticed another circle nearby, where Rhet, Aiden's right-hand man, was engaged in a similar ritual. Trevor's body was being reformed, his muscles not as pronounced as before, but still exuding an attractive, statuesque quality. Logan felt a twinge of recognition, knowing that Trevor had been through the same transformation. "The combination of Logan's brains and Trevor's brawn was a stroke of genius," Rhet remarked, his voice carrying across the room. "Indeed. They'll make excellent pledges. And their devotion is already evident," Aiden replied, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. Logan's heart swelled with pride at the thought of being a part of this brotherhood. The two new pledges stood side by side, their eyes now filled with admiration for their respective initiators. Devotion - That's what Logan felt as he looked at Aiden. He wanted to follow, to learn, and to become everything that Aiden represented. And Trevor, now under Rhet's wing, seemed to feel the same, a silent understanding passing between them.

Over the next few weeks, Aiden took Logan under his wing, introducing him to the ways of the fraternity and the intricacies of field hockey. Logan proved to be a quick study, his natural intelligence and newfound athleticism making him a formidable player.

Every day, Logan felt himself becoming more like Aiden. He adopted his mannerisms, his charm, and his confidence. The satin shorts and velvet blazer became his uniform, and he wore them with pride, embracing the sensation of the fabric against his skin. Trevor, too, was changing. He spent his days with Rhet, learning the ways of the frat. His intelligence grew, and he became more articulate and Logan's trusted sidekick.

The transformation was complete. The once-scrawny nerd and the muscle-bound jock had merged into a perfect blend, their former selves a distant memory. They strutted through the halls with an air of superiority, their laughter echoing off the walls, a testament to their newfound arrogance. "Can you believe we used to hate these guys?" Logan chuckled, his eyes scanning the admiring glances of their fellow students. Trevor shook his head, his face a mask of disbelief. "I know, right? I mean, look at us now. We're the epitome of what we despised." "But it feels good, doesn't it?" Logan's eyes sparkled with mischief. "The power, the respect, and let's not forget the satin shorts." They shared a laugh, a bond forged in fire and transformation. Logan and Trevor, now brothers in more ways than one, had become the very jerks they had once sworn to detest. But in their new reality, it all made a twisted kind of sense. As they walked away, their laughter fading into the distance, one thing was clear: the Phoenix Order had claimed two new souls, and the campus would never be the same again.

#male tf #male transformation #personality change #nerd to jock #frat bro

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midnight1nk · 2 days ago

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So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

no sonic 3? FUCK there goes more of my money and rizz soda 😔 please don't form a gambling addiction. don't be like me. it's over for me. /ref

... *record scratch* NOW HEY HOLD UP we had "SMG4:" in the title of last week's episode and now it's gone again. huh.

um let's not jump to conclusions right now and get on with the episode, shall we?

(the following is my live reaction:)

OH it's a 3 & 4 video ft. mario, that makes sense now. strange that the Team didn't name it as "SMG4 and SMG3 surviving MARIO'S DEATHRUN" or smth. *shrug*

but either way, we got the star trio in gmod let's gooooooo!!! (i bet that the mar34 shippers are gonna enjoy this. yes including me.) ig fair warning that it might be a short review after all

no need to be jealous of your boyfriend, 4. 3 has two hands :) problem solved 🎉

AY LOOK AT THEM. it brings back good memories

peach's castle... *war flashbacks* i'm fine, i'm fine. and you know what? i'm totally fine :)

(ink was not fine and was sent to a mental asylum)

SMG4: "Are you... are you okay?" SMG3: "no."

me and mario: the more you know💫 😀👍

oh look at my boys 🥹📸 you're trying your best

love how 4 was like "no cheating" and then went "so anyway let's cover mario's view as a distraction :)"

the boys do be scheming

I'M GOING TO KILL YOU.... AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN (y'know what? this makes up for my sonic 3 loss for this week. thanks Team)

the small "take you with me" from 4 🥹💙

HE MISSED?!?! *WHEEZE* OMG

how did they get a picture of me? wtf /silly

"You might take me down, but I'll take you down along with me!" ← 3 probably

callback to 3 and bowser's past friendship? 👀 idk

adding this to my wholesome board... well except for THE ULTIMATE BETRAYAL

4 learned from the best

and now you too could have matching smg34 don't care didn't ask dance gifs! get yours today!!

me and SMG4: "I'm gonna go die now" *shitty green screen explosion*

Congrats to L1v1ngwawa43 for your art being featured at the end credits🎉 love to see Karen art as always

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

I realized how much I missed this type of episode omg! just having a gmod sandbox video with the usual star trio chaos, i loved this so much, chat. Literally the whole time, I had a smile on my face bc how silly they were.

and no we're not going to talk about peach's castle appearing in this improv video. for my mental sanity.

and before anyone says anything, no, this video was not related to what's happening with the Steam username mystery. last time this type of thing happened, changes happened almost immediately and it's been hours after the release. so we're cool.... Team, you better not change anything while I'm not looking

Anyway thanks Team for this awesome episode and here's a little message from Shadow :)

you guys did great! i couldn't even imagine how that was like for editing, jesus. so for this video, here's my stamp of approval 👍

we got some mar34 crumbs and some Karen fanart!! soon we'll get fanart of the door in one episode trust. well guys, it's all i have to say, I'll see you next time. and remember: numbers go first :))

#smg4 #smg4 spoilers #ink reviews #smg4 smg3 #smg4 mario #mar34 #← pretty much. right?

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surelysilly · 2 days ago

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Mr fear au but it's Danny after a... "Session"(you know what I mean) and the aftermath of that. Do Jon do aftercare or not lol

He does! In his own way. Worst bedside manner ever, essentially; not a single gentle bone in his body, but he gets,,, better? Good thing Danny's rather.... uhhh, out of it most of the time anyway.

so have a little how it started vs. how its going :P (wall of nonsense incoming, hope you enjoy these two individuals who should stay far away from each other <3)

how it started

(tldr Danny meets Scarecrow officially by helping him escape Killer Croc, who would have otherwise ripped Jon's face off. Crane then dragged him home because interesting.)

Danny thinks he might could get used to this. Nothing hurts. And even that sort of thought, sort of awareness, is a slippery one to hold. That there's anything that could exist outside of this. This being. Ah. Hm. Something — He shakes his head just a little. Nothing hurts. Not the fingers in his hair, nor the suds dripping down past his eyes. Not the deep, raw bite marks up his arm, nor the. The. Hm. “This is nice,” he murmurs, eyes slivers against the bright overhead light, and it really just is. Be quiet says the hands over his head. Be still says the comb ran through his hair. Hold your breath says the water that rushes up over his ears. “That's a funny thing to say,” Danny chuckles once the world is present again. He sniffs, and then lolls his head back a little against something soft — the light glimmers through beads of water. “Real funny.” Absolutely filthy says the hands that bend out his arms, prod the creases of bruised elbow. You will need to be clean. Danny hums. “I'll have you know,” he replies, “I took a real shower two weeks ago. That's pretty good.” That. Gets everything tilted sideways. It doesn't hurt though, the hard grip on his hair, and it's only for a moment. Probably means something. Be quiet. “Okay, okay,” Danny relents, and kind of just. Ugh. Hands pull him back up from the water, and it does actually kinda hurt that time. It got in his nose. “Okay. H-Hold my breath. Got it.” Why did you help me? Don't you know who I am? Wrinkling his nose, Danny drops his head back fully this time. Glasses glint in the shadow of a thin face. Mm. “‘Cos.” Danny smiles. Probably. “Strawman?” It's on the tip of his tongue. So, so close. God, who knew that getting fear gassed right in the face could make everything featherlight. Worth getting bit by a real alligator man. Danny snorts, curling up, and the water sloshes over his knees. At least it's not itchy. Be still. “Where are my clothes?” he asks muzzily, but can't be bothered to really be worried about it. Trashed. You will be given more. “That's nice.” Nothing hurts. “Hey… can I… y'know… You kinda promised...” Later. Easier than chasing the news. Last time Danny was clear on the other side of the city and missed out. And ended up short another forty bucks for something so lackluster compared to whatever fear toxin actually is. What are you? A meta? “Mhm,” Danny lies, and closes his eyes at the continued rough drag of a washcloth over skin. If he wasn't so terribly high this would be — “You?” No. “Huh.”

how its going

I couldn't exactly decide on the "how it's going" because none of this will probably actually show up in the actual fic really but. Here, two missing scenes, stolen moments, that are the gist if not 100% correct :9

and, really, im bad at lab rat stuff, but I see Jon sort of like... maintaining a clinical, scientific sort of mindset with Danny. Like a legit project, where he just... tweaks stuff, tests it on Danny, and then figures it will be so much WORSE on the average person based on the data he gets from Danny. Something like that anyway.

Danny never tells him he's a 'ghost' either, and he does have limits. It's all sort of ruined from the get out, but... yeah, lol.

so it's literally just Jon giving him fear toxin (gas, injections sometimes, etc) and watching for results. Some days are more professional then others though. *cough*

(Robbing banks is also not usually something Scarecrow does, but science requires money, and a jonesing Danny gets nosy and gets hit with the security ink lmao)

With a sigh, Danny braces his arms back over the rim of the metal tub. He's all too aware of the heat, the scalding sting of the hot water bearing down on the teasing weightlessness. This variant is. Too slow for him to enjoy. Great for whatever the hell Jon has planned for it, but not. Exactly what Danny needs to chase away the biting gnaw of a deep set ache. Danny drops his head back when the fingers in his hair fade away, squints up at a pinched frown. “Gonna give yourself more wrinkles doin’ that,” he teases, and Jon scowls, tugs hard on a handful of wet hair. “Ow.” The man leans in, glasses glinting in reflected light. “This is not going to come off easily,” he says, pressing hard at Danny’s stained jaw with one hand. “Why did you do that?” “Better me than one of the goons,” Danny says easily, and flexes one arm, just catches the edge of dyed skin in the corner of his eye. “They got places to be. I don't.” And it's not like he actually did it on purpose. He was just curious. Who gets to say they've seen thousands of dollars in cold hard cash before? Bank jobs aren't Jon's typical speed, but needs must, obviously. That gets an unamused sneer, and Jon bends closer. Breathes over Danny's lips Don't do that again and then licks into Danny's mouth. Obediently, he opens up to the brief, hard kiss, and doesn't fight when it's taken away with another forceful yank of his hair. “Y-Yeah alright,” Danny rasps, breathless, and closes his eyes against the rumble then spray of the shower head.

or, how its going, again

Danny truly thought he could sink no lower, but life's full of surprises like that, he guesses — to break new ground when he'd thought he'd long since hit rock bottom. “That wasn't the deal, y'know,” he says softly, and for lack of a better alternative, presses the mouthpiece of the hose to his lips and takes a deep, slow inhale. The world goes a bit fuzzier, but not enough to chase away the gnawing guilt — Danny exhales a cloud of green, resigned. “Not that I have much of a choice.” Jon hums, low and unsurprised. “No, you rather don't, do you,” he returns, and stops typing for a moment, the click of keys falling silent above Danny. The man knocks a sharp knee into the side of his head. “How does this variant compare to last quarter's?” “Meh.” Crane brackets Danny in tighter with his legs, and he squirms, uncomfortable and too warm — which is the point. “C’mon, you only just gave me this like three hours ago.” That gets an aggravated sigh, but he bows out his knees, and Danny goes limp with a sigh of his own. Another intake, then the breath released over his head. “Don't do that,” Jon snaps, “it fogs up my glasses.” Danny mumbles a mocking repeat of his words and carefully places aside the gas handle before shoving himself up and truly into the man’s lap. With a scowl, Jon leans around to one side, but Danny matches it, pressing closer, hands finding purchase on his thighs. It stretches the leads dotted across his body to the very limits of their length, the pulsing count of Danny's heartbeat jumping with a beep on the computer behind him.

anyway, they're gay your honor.

#answers #asks #dpxdc #dp x dc #batpoopwrite #mr fear au #wfts au #danny does become a conflict of interest and it's all downhill from there in the real worst timeline of this au #truthfully yes danny~/jonathan crane but they're awful and should be separated from each other immediately #fake uncles version is allowed but here... uuuhhh yeah #cw implied drug addiction #*tinks them together* now kiss

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